Addicted to You
by LadyAces
Summary: After years of rejection and denial, Laura Winslow and Steve Urkel reflect on their complicated relationship while we trace their steps and uncover the full story of how they finally came together. Find out what they were really thinking as it all went down! TO BE CONTINUED. Please R&R!
1. The Kiss Heard 'Round the World

**Family Matters: Addicted To You**

 _ **Genre:** Romance/Comedy/Drama_

 _ **Rating:** T for mild language and suggestive adult themes_

 _ **Synopsis:** After years of rejection and denial, Laura Winslow and Steve Urkel reflect on their complicated relationship and trace their steps to how they finally came together._

 _ **Author's Commentary:** This fic was written with the intent of tying up what I thought were a few loose ends of my favorite storyline in the series: Steve and Laura's relationship. I always loved how it evolved and I thought it would be fun to dig much deeper into the perspectives of both characters. Here's your chance to find out what they were really thinking as it all went down. I will be updating as often as I can until it's complete so please follow, share, and review!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** This story follows the events of the final season and for fluid storytelling and overall context, I re-tell a lot of scenes from the show throughout. I DO NOT own Family Matters, any familiar characters, familiar scenes, or show references therein, credit and kudos goes to the amazing creators of this series - this is just my creative take on it. On the other hand, any characters or scenes you don't recognize is from my own dome. Written for entertainment purposes only. Enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 1: The Kiss Heard 'Round the World**_

 _Summary: After kissing Steve twice in her sorority's auction, Laura is starting see her embarrassment of a friend in a surprisingly different light. Steve, on the other hand, can't believe his luck._

* * *

"But then it hit me! You weren't trying to hurt my feelings. You were trying to _spaaare_ my feelings. Right?!"

"Well, I was just afraid that if you were in the auction and no one bid on you ... you might be humiliated," Laura admitted in a small voice, shamefully shriveling into the speculation that she more or less _knew_ Steve wouldn't be bid on. Everyone seemed to know but him that he was about as attractive as a monkey in a tutu to most women. Fun to look at - and point at - but you wouldn't imagine putting your lips on it.

"And you're right. I would have been. But I want you to invite me anyway!"

"Why?" Laura asked with a twist of her nose as she handed Steve the rest of her pastry, standing from the table and heading for refrigerator.

"Well, Laura ... I've always been comfortable with myself. Maybe it's time I faced the fact I can stand a little improvement," Steve said matter-of-factly, "Y'know! My voice, my clothes."

"You know, I've been suggesting that for years. Often quite loudly," Laura remarked sardonically.

"I know. And finally, I'm gonna listen. YUP!" Steve took a huge, sloppy bite out of the pastry, his confident declaration muffled by a mouthful of frosty dough, crumbs dripping from his chomps. "No longer..." chomp, chomp, "...is it I gotta be me! From now on ... it's I gotta be better!"

 _Yeah, right. Hope he doesn't hurt himself trying,_ Laura thought skeptically to herself, giving him a pitiful pat on the shoulder as she brushed past him. "That's good for you, Steve."

"Mm-hmm!"

She almost felt sorry for him, catching herself before she could reach over to flick a few of the crumbs from his mouth. It was as if he was completely unaware that he chewed like a horse ... actually, no, a horse chewed way neater than that. Ew. "Goodnight."

"Mm-hmm!"

As he continued to smack loudly, Laura disappeared upstairs, conceding to the lost cause Steve Urkel had always been.

"Yup!" Smack, smack, smack! "I could be better!"

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT NIGHT...**_

The back door of the Winslow house swung violently ajar, slamming against the adjacent wall as Steve plowed through it, a few of the knick-knacks and dishes balanced delicately on the shelves above the windows crashing to the ground. He hung from the knob of the door like a rag doll, his legs dragging behind him as the motion of the door swung his scrawny body inside the kitchen. Having lost absolutely all feeling from the waist down, he held on for holy survival. Wide-eyed and huffing madly, he looked as if he'd polka'd til he'd plotzed and this was the plotzing part.

"...Whaaaooooooahh, mama! Help! I'm being swept away by love's deliciously unforgiving undertow!" he exclaimed through a choked, desperate whisper ... to nobody in particular since the kitchen was empty. Exasperated and faint as he struggled to catch his stolen breath, his clunky saddle shoes shuffled wildly to find their footing. He strained to pull himself upright, only to find that the wobble of his knees was far too severe to support him. Finally, he managed to pull himself up with a quick yank against the door.

"Yeeeoow!" ... only to inadvertently toss himself into the dining room table with a resounding crash.

Smashing into a center-pieced tea set, a saucer and cup - or ten - shattered loudly on the ground as he quickly scrambled to gather the tumbling dishes in his arms before they fell, though doing so only managed to soak the front of his new light blue button-up, leaving a wet tea trail from his chest to the thighs of his khakis. The more he scooped up, the quicker and harder the dishes slipped from his grip into a pile on the floor. In classic Urkel fashion, it took at least five minutes for him to stop slipping on the broken china long enough to stabilize his stance. Sheesh.

"Good Lord, man! Pull yourself together!" he squeaked in frustration, chastising himself sharply as he poked his chest out and reached for a lone napkin hiding beneath the shattered glass. Because moments like this were the perfect time for pep talks and he was the only one there, the conversation with himself ensued.

"It was just one kiss!" he mused, trying to convince himself he was seeing hearts and cupid arrows for nothing. "... Actually, _two_..." Suddenly recalling this fact, his brows wiggled haughtily, tonguing his cheek as his wobbly body suddenly steeled, poised with confidence. " _Dos_. Big. Wet ooonnnes." A wiggle of two fingers for good measure.

His eyes sparkled impishly behind his glasses as he swayed wistfully, his pep talk bringing him to one distinct and steadfast conclusion: "Oh, there's no doubt about it. I got that woman wrapped around my pinky toe. Wearing her down like arthritis." Momentarily distracted as he patted himself dry, he hadn't even heard the back door open again.

"Steve?" came that familiar, angelic voice that caught him off guard and he flinched as he looked up ... and the sight of his beautiful lady love was absolutely devastating, more so than usual if that were even possible! As if on cue, the wobble of his knees instantly returned full force, his heart pounding as a surge of blood flushed from his head to his ankles and stealing his will to stay upright. "Whoauh-oh..." Stumbling back into the table, he once again felt like he was standing in quicksand, sinking at the whim of his knocking knees.

"Steve, are you okay? Did you wander through the Red Light district again?" Laura asked as she stepped over the shattered glass, her brows furrowed in confusion as she took a look around, noticing he seemed unsteady. The last time she remembered him being this dazed was that time he saw Greta buck naked when she modeled for art class. He came home and bumped into everything that wasn't nailed down that same night - the family ended up sweeping for three hours.

Putting two and two together pretty quickly, all she could do was hope her mother didn't choke him when she saw this mess. Then again, her mom probably wouldn't have been surprised - she must have just forgotten Steve Urkel lived there or she wouldn't have thought twice about keeping the china hidden.

Blinking madly as he struggled to recover, Steve turned to face her and fixed his glasses on his nose. "N-not this time, my little love bug, I'm just fine," he replied bashfully, "But I hope your mother has a backup set." He nodded sagely and pointed to the bare spot on the table cloth where the china used to be before it fell to its demise.

Laura waved a hand dismissively, a relaxed smile on her face. "Don't worry. Even if she doesn't, Dad had all breakables in the house insured months ago."

Steve melted at the sight of her, as he always had, and he silently watched her cross the room and sidestep the jagged glass in order to move closer to him - with a dazed tilt of his head and a sunken bend of his knees, he stared at her like she was the 8th Wonder of the World. What was puzzling to him was that ... well, he noticed that she was staring back.

There was something odd about her scrutiny this time, though! She wasn't rolling her eyes or ... shaking her head with pity and disgust ... she actually wasn't using any of the typical vitriolic indicators she used to make it clear that he repulsed her and he knew that those reactions had become almost second nature to her at this point; it was like a reflexive twitch developed after having the same annoying scratch-proof itch in the same place all your life.

There had been times when they were younger when he could _feel_ her turning her nose up at him when his back was turned. And it hurt like salt in a wound every time, even though he always kept the durability of his poker face in steady cadence with his unyielding hope. But this time, he didn't feel the urge to shrivel under her scrutiny. He caught how her gaze dipped from his head to his knees and then back to his hypnotized four eyes. She seemed almost ... swoony...

 _...Naaaaah!_ Laura Lee Winslow would never _swoon_ over him. It was a sad concept his maturing mind was starting to vaguely accept. _Extremely vaguely_. The man had ordered a marching band for her once for christsake! Perched on her roof in the middle of a winter storm just to ask her on a date! Almost gotten beaten to a pulp numerous times in the name of her honor! He'd even gone so far as to transform his own DNA completely just to be compatible with her only to somehow end up spliced from the scene completely. He'd pursued her his entire adolescent life and no matter how hard he tried, the answer had always been 'no' and even now, he was still prepared to chase the stars for the rest of his life if it meant there was a smallest million-in-one-chance of catching her one day. But tonight? Oh, boy, tonight his hope was impervious!

Tonight had turned out sooo much different than he expected. He'd made the effort to improve himself as he'd promised - he'd ditched his suspenders and actually bought pants that fit! He had even almost gotten contacts too but his eyeballs couldn't support the weight of them. After poking himself blinder than he already was and getting a crick in his neck every time he tried them on, he just figured he had a better chance of surviving without them. His voice was lower, though! ...Sorta.

But as usual, nobody seemed impressed at the effort. The place had more crickets than an alligator swamp when he walked onstage. After conceding to his humiliation with a bowed head and a defeated soul, he figured he must've been insane to show up at the auction and believe he was worthy of a kiss from anybody - Myra seemed to be the only one hard up for some Urkel-lovin' and quite honestly, that notion was beginning to scare him.

He had felt even more foolish to expect that Laura would see him as anything more than an embarrassment to mankind no matter how hard he tried. But then something so astounding happened, he was _still_ trying to reel his heart back into his chest ...

Laura bid on him! For a whopping Benjamin's worth, at that! A pity bid, no doubt, but ... she still bid on him! What shocked him more than anything was that she _actually_ kissed him when she predictably won the bid.

Even though he initially knew she had bid on him as a way absorb the embarrassment for him - which, by the way, made him fall in more madly devoted to the woman - everything in him also knew she would just hand him an I.O.U with an expiration date that never expired with the words "Dream on, Urkel" written as her signature. Instead she delivered to him the shock of his life for the first time since prom night.

And Good Merciful Lord, it was a kiss that ripped the laces right out of his shoes. He was still on cloud nine and drifting higher still. It was only after reliving that wonderful moment in his mind for the millionth time that night did he realize he recognized this look in her eyes - it was a look he thought he'd imagined earlier.

That look she gave him right after she came to her senses and realized there were at least 70 sets of eyes watching her kiss the most annoying person in their phone books and vehemently wondering how she could conceive of kissing nerdy Urkel... twice. Just the mention of his name had become like an inflammed, itchy boil on the rear end of humanity. But her look said otherwise - it was almost as if her eyes were revealing to him: _'Wow, I had no idea...'_

...But that was just his imagination. Of course it was. Besides, after being rejected over a thousand times, it was easy to let his imagination run awry!

"L-Laura, my pet...can I tell you something?"

"What is it, Steve?"

He stiffened as she inched towards him slowly, his shoulders slowly rising to his ears as her flowery scent assaulted his nose. For some reason, all of a sudden, he felt incredibly bashful being this close to her - his fists nervously curled into his chest as he bended elbows tucked into his sides. All these years of tactical bluntness and declarations of blinding passion and now? He could barely say three words to her ... Oh, man, this woman's lips have destroyed him! And he knew things would never be the same ... at least not in his eyes. He also knew that Laura would forget all about it tomorrow and act like it never happened. He had to make sure she realized how much it'd meant to him regardless if it was a pity kiss or not. Even though there was a good chance she may not listen.

"Well ... I just wanted you to know that I don't really care if what happened tonight was because you felt sorry for me. You were right, Laura. I was foolish! I probably shouldn't have expected to be bid on; it's like going to sleep as Pee Wee Herman and trying to convince yourself you woke up as James Bond. But, I wouldn't change it for the world. I just want to thank you for making it the best moment of my life, Laura Lee Winslow." He swooned. When she gave no response, just a guilty little drop of her eyes, he started to slowly turn away towards the stairs. "Well, good night."

"Steve?"

He whipped around quicker than a tornado and scurried towards her again, giving her a hopeful stare. " _Yeeeeees_ , my love?"

It was only when he was within her proximity again that he realized she was still ... looking at him like that. "... I wanna show you something."

 _Yowser!_ She grabbed his hand and started to tug him towards the back door. What threw him off even more was the fact that her voice could melt butter. Hesitant but FAR from reluctant, he skittered behind her and onto the back deck and before he knew it, she had closed the distance between them completely. Alarmed, he stumbled back towards the closed door and collided against it with a high-pitched yelp. Suddenly her toned, skirt-clad body was pressed against him and gravity could barely hold him to the earth.

"L-Laura, w-wh-at did you wanna show me?" Suddenly, he was violently silenced by a passionate pucker of her lips as she captured his in yet another kiss that would have snapped his suspenders had he kept them. Instead, his heart thundered in his chest as he relaxed and fell against her lips with an ease that surprised even him.

He almost always wanted to escape for the hills whenever Myra would dominate him like that, but never for Laura Lee. She was as gentle as a daisy blossom and tasted as sweet as honeydew ... kissing Myra felt more like being tackled by an aggressive, albeit gorgeous, halfback.

This had been simply one of those things he knew never to count on happening to him and yet ... here he was, being kissed by the love of his life not once, not twice, but _three times_ in one night!

His arms embraced her lithe waist as her hands lifted to cup the ridge of his jaw, knocking him right back to those wonderful few seconds on the stage when she fearlessly seized a similar moment in front of everyone. EVERYONE Laura knew saw her kiss him. Like ... everyone. He was still wondering how she could even stomach the thought of the embarrassment she must've had to face! ...More than that, he wondered if Stefan saw - he had been there earlier that night after all ...

But now that they were alone, she seemed urgent to prolong what seemed stolen from them earlier that night by so many judging, scrutinizing eyes. And he shamelessly poured his life-long feelings for her into every precious moment they shared in that kiss, the stars shining brightly, persistently, above them.

* * *

"Laura? Hey, Laura? Laura!"

Laura snapped back to reality as a hand waved across her face, coaxing her from an incredibly vivid fantasy that had her heart racing. She felt a slight flush heat her face as her eyes caught her own reflection in the windows of Steve's glasses as he looked at her inquisitively. "Huh? W-what?"

"You said you had something you wanted to show me. What's on your mind, ladybug lips? You looked like you were on the moon there for a second."

"I ... I think I was," she confessed in whisper, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them, breathless as she found her gaze fixated on him in mild shock. Did she ... just visualize herself kissing Steve Urkel? Or was it his fantasy she was having? - for a second there, she couldn't really tell. Lord Jesus, what was going on tonight?

First, she bid on him after she absolutely couldn't stand to see that look of disappointment on his face ... and then, just her luck, she won him. She actually wasn't sure what else she was expecting - they wouldn't even go for five dollars!

And now she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss she shared with him. Realizing she actually hadn't breathed in several seconds, she let out an exhale as a hand inconspicuously lifted to cover her defiant heart, as if to demand it to slow down, lest it would reveal the dark secret starting to stir in her.

The fact that he had just destroyed her mother's favorite china and was now soaked in tea seemed irrelevant. And as she looked at him, it was the first time she actually acknowledged something about the way he always stared at her like that ... like she was the most delicious cheddar topping to his cheese sundae. That look used to annoy the hell out of her.

But now, she was mesmerized. Besides Stefan, she had never seen eyes on a man that were so sincere ... why hadn't she noticed that before? Maybe it was the reflective shimmer of those big glasses - they tended to mask his eyes.

Brought to her senses by the confusion that overtook Steve's dreamy expression, she stuttered her way back to recovery as she climbed out of her seamlessly deep and disturbing thoughts and broke the tense silence.

"I-I wanted to, uh ... show you how much money we made from the auction tonight." Reaching into her sweater pocket, she retrieved the "Kiss List" with the names of the participants and the amounts auctioned for each. Steve's face lit up with pride when he saw his name very last on the list next to his lady love's. And it cost her a hundred bucks to boot! It was actually quite satisfying when he saw that had been 30 dollars more than that bonehead Curtis. Ahh, yes, tonight was definitely a red letter date in his nerdy, romantically deprived life. And further proof that he was wearing his Laura-poo dooooown!

"Thank you for helping us out. My sorority has more than enough to donate to that new community center now," she said, catching herself staring at the ridge of his jaw, suddenly noticing things about him that she never gave enough notice. Like how he actually DID have a little facial hair! ...One whisker, but enough to convince her it was at least possible to sprout a manly factor here and there.

And those lips ... now that she'd kissed him more than a few times and knew that he didn't actually taste like rancid cheese - he was actually quite minty - it was safe to say that she definitely wouldn't mind getting used to them, if nothing else. _There you go again, Laura. Being superficial._

Her brows knitted - she was actually surprised to catch herself reprimanding herself about ... STEVE URKEL? On top of that, she was thinking about ... getting used to his lips. Just the thought of getting used to him gave her nightmares at one point! _Oh, God ... I'm losing my mind, aren't I? I've died and gone to hell; it's official._

She couldn't remember how many times she'd told him "it'll never happen" only to be standing here now, regretting with every fiber of her being that he hadn't kept count. Though, knowing Steve...

"Why, that's great, doodlebug! I'm glad I could be apart of it, even if the other ladies chose to be unfulfilled tonight. And whenever you need use of these lips again, just ask! I rent them out by the hour, free of charge to you! Wouldn't want you to go too broke, babycakes." With that and a goofy, flirtatious wiggle of his brows, along with his nasally laugh and snort, Steve turned and proceeded towards the stairs.

"And Steve?"

He snapped back around a final time, twice as hopeful as before. " _Yeeeeees_ , sweetums?"

Laura paused as she carefully picked through the words that came to mind. She knew that if she were too honest, the man would follow her around like a lost puppy for the rest of the night. One fleeting thought led to another and she realized the only reason she didn't want him to be on her heels tonight wasn't because he was annoying her ... for once, it was quite the contrary. As she stood less than three feet from him, she took note of the butterflies doing gymnastics in her belly and they were reason enough to find distance between them and fast before she fainted of shock ... or worse! Before she let on to what she was really thinking...

"... Thanks for giving me my money's worth." _That wasn't too forward, right?_ She could only hope that the honey in her voice didn't sound as sultry to him as it did to her. She cringed internally, hoping the urge to compliment him wouldn't spring him into Romance Rambo mode but to her surprise, he simply tugged his pants over his navel and shuffled confidently from one foot to the other. Must've meant she pulled it off with enough of a platonic flair he could discern and she was satisfied with that. She sighed with relief.

"No problem, my lovely. Like I said - these lips are free _all_ week." A dramatic point to the pucker of his lips and he swiveled on the heel of one saddle shoe before nerd-waddling up the stairs, the sound of tripping and falling resounding down to the kitchen followed by a squeal of pain, Laura wincing at every crash she heard. "Oof! Oww!" Seconds later, his falsetto voice echoed in the staircase hallway: "Don't worry! I'm fine ... can't say the same about these stairs!"

Left with nothing but her pensive silence as she found herself staring at the spot Steve had just stood in, she suddenly felt incredibly deprived of his annoying presence ... she settled in her silence, assessing just how serious this situation was.

"Ohh, man! What happened in here?"

Laura flinched out of her thoughts, interrupted by the booming bass of her big brother's voice. _Thank God, a distraction._ Pivoting, she turned to face him as he sauntered through the back door, the sound of glass crunching beneath his boots as he crossed the kitchen. Just like Laura, Eddie took his guesses pretty quickly as his gaze swept the room, a brow quirking as he shot Laura a knowing look. "Steve got lost in the Red Light District again, didn't he?"

Laura shook her head dismissively and fell into contemplative silence, ignoring Eddie's question since a heavier matter weighed on her mind and her brother could tell by the thoughtful furrow of her brows. "Yo, Laura. You all right?" Eddie inquired, pausing at the door to the living room as he looked on, concerned.

"Eddie ... can I ask you something?" she asked hesitantly, her hands perching on her hips.

"Sure, sis." He inched closer, giving her his attention. "What's on your mind?"

Laura once again paused, trying to desperately find the right words that wouldn't give the tip off to her mind-boggling dilemma. "Have you ever ... known somebody all of your life and then suddenly, out of nowhere, you find yourself starting to look at them completely different?"

Her shoulder momentarily tensed, hoping to the death of her that he didn't think she was talking about herself. Lucky for her, the hint seemed completely lost her big brother. Ever eager to be helpful, he took a moment to think on her question.

"Hmm. There was the time Waldo tap-danced on Greg Jameson's face in a fight." Seemed like a good enough example to him. Laura looked at him with a baffled knit in her brows. All she could do was shake her head. "I definitely never saw him the same after that!" He firm nod of his head.

"Eddie ... that wasn't a fight - Waldo slipped while he was practicing on a patch of ice and tornado-kicked Greg in the chin as he was walking by."

Eddie scoffed indignantly. "Well. The fact he can tap-dance at all is reason enough to look at the man different." His job done and her questions presumably answered, he popped his collar and swagger-walked out of the kitchen.

Further disconcerted at the lack of insight, all Laura could do was sigh. Maybe she should just try to forget about it. One ... well, two kisses ... that she thoroughly enjoyed ... didn't mean she was really into somebody like ... that! She had just felt sorry for him, like Steve had a tendency to make people do. He had the gift of annoying the ever-loving heck out of you until you were ready to run him over with a steam-roller, only to crush your heart with his innocent pouting. It was really no wonder anymore why the Winslows still put up the nerd - it was almost impossible to stay mad at Steve no matter how much chaos followed in his wake. But still - never in this lifetime would she ever, _ever_ consider giving somebody like that the time of day ... right?

Besides ... she knew exactly what would distract her from her troublesome and downright worrying musings. Almost as if to brush off the perturbation, she shimmied her shoulders and forced a smile as her hands brushed out of the wrinkles of her skirt. Stepping with purpose over to the phone, she picked it up and dialed a number. Lifting the receiver to her ear, she waiting with almost anxious anticipation for an answer. The kind of anticipation that brought perspiration.

"Talk to me."

"Hey, Stefan," she said with a whimsical grin, her voice as airy as a spring breeze when she heard his sexy, suave voice ... a voice that always gave her goosebumps and sent chills of desire up her spine. Only then could she picture his handsome face. He was all she needed to feel like she wasn't losing her mind. Steve over Stefan? No way. Never in a million years.

"Hey, baby. You disappeared on me after the auction; I didn't get to say goodbye. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine now," she said with a heavy sigh of relief, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. "I'm just so happy to hear your voice."

* * *

 _CONTINUED in Chapter 2..._


	2. The Irony

_**CHAPTER 2: The Irony**_

 _Summary: Reflecting on his dream come true, Steve realizes just how complicated his feelings are and Myra is the first to know._

* * *

 _ **TWO YEARS AGO...**_

Grabbing ahold of his suspenders, Laura tugged Steve down beside her on the couch. He didn't know whether to run for his life or ravish her as she scooted in closer to gently graze the back of his neck with her fingertips, and he sat completely frozen in terror yet hypnotized by her beautiful browns as she peered at him with a desire he'd never seen there before.

"Steve, I've been thinking back over all the years we've known each other and how relentlessly you pursued me. Then today ... all of a sudden I realized ... I'm in love with you."

The sincerity in her voice warmed his heart so much, it melted. As did his will-power and the compass of his morals; he suddenly forgot why this had been a bad idea. "I've dreamed of hearing those words ever since the first day I laid eyes on you."

"Well, you're not dreaming now," Laura insisted, barely above a whisper.

As if their lips were suddenly magnetic, they were drawn to each other in a gentle and affectionate quarrel, Steve reaching to embrace her as she leaned into him. Every second his lips touched hers, his heart thundered in his chest harder and harder, chiseling away at his notorious self-control by the second...only when he came up for air was he given a fresh breath of his sanity.

"Oh, no! NO!" To Laura's surprise, their kiss ended just as unexpectedly as it began as Steve ripped himself from her and popped up from the couch abruptly in a panicked frenzy.

"Oh ... oh, no, this is _wrooong_!" he cried as Laura also stood from the couch with a confused scowl on her face. "Oh, but it feels so right!" He rushed back to her side, marveling at the fact that she was actually allowing him to touch her ... and he thoroughly enjoyed the few seconds he held her waist before quickly pulling away like he'd been shocked by electricity. "Oh, but this is baaad!"

Wait a minute, was he a fool or something?! This was Laura Winslow! The woman of dreams, both night and day! This quickly considered, he stepped in once again and embraced her with a wicked grin. "...But I _like_ bad!" She seemed to agree with him and the way she touched him and actually held him in return threatened to break him all the way down to his knees. But ... he couldn't do it! He refused to misuse science in the name of his own selfish desires!

"Oh no, I must be _strong_ \- be strong!" he demanded of himself, exhaling three times in quick succession as he power walked away - as _far_ away as he could across the room, leaving his dream come true standing there baffled.

"Steve, what's the matter?"

"Oh, Laura ... the feelings you have for me a fake! A fraud! A sham! A cheat!" he confessed contritely.

"What are you talking about?"

"Laura, I made a love potion called 'Woo Woo Juice' and spilled it on myself! You walked in and, bam! You never stood a chance, baby."

"Wait a minute, my devotion comes from a potion?"

"Yeah, we gotta slow down before we make that motion." And just to ensure she got the drift, he Urkel-ed his hips in a subtle wiggle motion to and fro. He then produced a small flask with a translucent red liquid and showed it to her. "This is the antidote. The moment I put it on, your feelings for me will fade faster than Milli-Vanilli's career."

"Steve. I don't believe my feelings for you are fake. And even if they are, I don't care."

His brow shot up in shock. "...You _don't?_ "

" _No._ I love being in love with you."

* * *

To Steve, she had almost sounded disappointed that he would think any differently that night - that he would even question her "love" for him. In fact, the more he journeyed through that memory, the more he regretted doing the right thing.

But he knew it had just been the potion talking. He recalled just how quickly her repulsion for him returned when he spilled the 'Woo Woo Juice' antidote on himself and how much it hurt to realize the only love it seemed she was capable of having for him was artificial at worst and platonic at best. Laura had told him before what her real fantasy of him had been: to see him waving to her from the back of a moving van. He wondered how much of that statement had actually been a joke.

Caught in an emotional net between the shock that came from kissing Laura at the auction last night and the sobering reality that he would never be worthy of her, he gave a defeated sigh as his thoughts drifted back to all those times he came incredibly close to actually catching her, only to be shoved away at arm's length.

Cupping his chin in his hand as he rocked back and forth on the swinging bench in his back yard, he was starting to feel just as pathetic as everybody saw him to be.

"Hello there, my little snugglebuns!" a cheerful voice rang out.

... Well. Everyone except Myra.

Her appearance prompted Steve to flinch out of his thoughts to see his peppy girlfriend skipping across the yard in a flowy bright yellow and white polka-dot cocktail dress with a button-choking tight corset, complete with matching lacy knee and elbow safety pads. If that didn't seem odd enough, Steve couldn't figure out why she had a pearl-lined protective helmet tucked beneath her arm either.

"Oh. Hi, Myra," he murmured, heavy-hearted, before returning his chin back to the perch of his palm. She looked very pretty but not even her sensuosity was enough to pep him up. His apathetic mood both concerning and offensive, Myra set her fists on her hips and hovered over Steve once reaching him. The fact that he was now caught in the shadow of her bossoms wasn't even enough to spark his usually over-zealous personality.

"Steven, what's the meaning of this? Why aren't you dressed, did you forget about our swing dance lesson tonight? Took me an hour to get into this dress, y'know," she demanded, her peppy voice firm but eerily sweet.

Steve's brows perked as he realized he'd completely forgotten about their date. Genuinely contrite, his shoulders sunk even more. "Oh. I'm sorry, Myra," he moaned, feeling like a complete failure. "We might have to take a rain check, sugarlips. I'm not feeling too hot."

Myra instantly softened, giving a soft gasp as she dropped the helmet and rushed closer to him, brushing her hand against the back of his head tenderly. "Ohhh, my poor, poor honey bump! Here." Before Steve knew it, his face was being smashed against her bossoms, his body flailing at the abruptness of the nuturing gesture. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he gripped at the ropes of the swing for balance.

"Just let mama take on the burden of that incredibly large brain and be the net for the woes your heart has set adrift," Myra chirped poetically, her voice dreamy as she continued to bury Steve's head into her chest, petting him like a beloved possession. "Now tell me where it hurts, my little bosenberry muffin!"

This sort of thing came with the territory with being Myra's love muffin and so Steve managed to recover pretty quickly despite the shock that momentarily dizzied him. "Right here," he said with a long-faced pout, pointing at the center of his chest as he nuzzled his head against her chest in surrender since it didn't seem as if she would let go anytime soon.

Of course, he'd be wrong. Grabbing his jaw with the opposite hand, Myra forcibly lifted his chin to glare into his eyes while keeping him as close as possible.

"... This doesn't have anything to do with that tart of a she-devil, does it?" she asked, a hint of bitterness in her sweet tone, but Steve still could tell it wouldn't be easy to get off the hook.

"Bunny butt, we've been through this before," he said once she let got of his jaw, almost pleading since it always amounted to that whenever Laura came up. "The woman has got my heart in a inflatable lifeboat full of holes in the middle of the Atlantic and she's always casting away."

Frustrated, Myra released him and took a step back, her hands calmly returning to her hips. "You're right, Steven. We _have_ been through this before. And I still don't understand why on Earth you have it so bad for a selfish little trollop who wouldn't know a good man if she stepped on one." Uh-oh. Steve could tell she was getting angry now and he shrunk away timidly. Myra always got incredibly calm before she exploded.

"I can't expect you to understand, Myra. In fact, there's something else you should know about Laura." He didn't believe in keeping secrets from his loved ones and knew that it was now or never to once again remind her of where his heart really lie. "Now, this news is kind of upsetting so please don't freak out, okay?"

"Stevie, who do you take me for?" Myra chimed with a charming smile. "I'm the most level-headed woman you know." And she stomped back in his direction, her voice an octave lower as she seethed aggressively through her teeth: "Now, _tell me_."

Jeez, it was like trying to bargain with a bulldog in a dress. He proceeded with caution. "Oh, all right. Well. I was in her sorority's kissing auction last night -"

"AHHHH!" Myra squealed, the ear-piercing sound launching Steve right out of the swing as he tumbled backwards into the thorny flower bed behind him. Scrambling to get to his feet, he yelped in pain as he tried to pluck thorns out of the seat of his pants.

"... You mean a roomful of witches in heat had their sewer-infested lips all over my Stevie?! Why didn't you tell me you were going to this ... _bird_ fest?!" Myra demanded once he was stable enough to communicate.

"W-well," he stuttered, finding his footing as he slowly backed away from her, finding the most logical explanation possible. "Because I knew you'd bid your life savings and you need that money for your mother's toe-removal surgery."

As right as he was, Myra wasn't buying it. "That's not the only reason, is it? Spill it, you womanizer!" she seethed as she closed in on him but he stood his ground and grabbed ahold of her shoulders to stop her from crowding him completely.

"Calm down, Myra! Nobody _actually_ bid on me ..." he insisted.

As a result, Myra deflated with relief as a smile sprung to her face. "Oh, good..."

"...Except Laura," he rambled quickly, hoping it was quick enough for her not to catch. Unfortunately..

"AHHHHHHHH!"

And that scream, fit the snap glass, had Steve scurrying for the nearest tree in his back yard, hiding behind the trunk. "Good Lord, woman, could you scream any louder? I don't think the whales heard you calling!" he remarked as he cowered with his hands over his ears.

Ignoring his sarcasm, Myra cut right to the chase ... but this time, the peppiness had escaped her and she sounded genuinely hurt. "And you kissed her?!"

Hearing the dejection in her voice, he revealed himself from behind the tree slowly, his eyes seeded with guilt for the pain he knew he was causing her. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he wasn't honest with her. "... For a hundred big ones. It was for a good cause!"

And the furiosity that struck her face triggered his instant regret for coming out from hiding. She stormed angrily towards him and gave chase as he began to run from her around the back yard. "Whoa! Myra! Take it easy - you know I'm a bleeder! Besides, it was just two kisses!"

" _Two_ kisses?!" Myra stopped in her tracks just long enough to lift an accusing finger, her expression gathering storm clouds before her stalking continued. Steve scampered accordingly. "Let me get this straight. You mean that not only did you go to this man-stealing floozy-affair without even telling me, but you let that hussy put her undeserving lips on _my Stevie twice_?! Just stomp and spit on my heart over and over, why don'tcha?! Did you wake up with a death wish or something?!"

Boy, he must've. Grabbing her helmet as she ran past it, she launched it at him and though he was able to duck in time, the very action was too much for his limited coordination and it sent him stumbling forward into the swing, curling around it a few times before dropping to the ground. "Myra - ow! - M-Myra!"

"Oh, Steven Q. Urkel, how could you?!" Stopping her pursuit, she wasn't sure what else to do but pout as she watched her helpless honey try to escape her rage as he desperately scattered to his feet. As angry as she was, she never liked to see her schnookums hurt. "I love you more than the sky loves sunlight and you put your lips on another woman. And on top of everything else, you _lied_ to me."

"Oh, come now, I am an Urkel and Urkels don't lie! Why, it's proven to be hazardous to our health!" he declared in his defense before shrinking into his guilt once again, admitting cautiously, "... I just ... neglected to _mention_ it, that's all!" When it was clear by the look of disappointment on her face and her resounding silence that he was being insensitive, all he could do was hang his head in defeat. "Oh, Myra. I've got to stay true to my heart and no matter how many times Laura breaks it ... it mends back together for another run around the track."

He'd seen that heartbroken look on her face before and he had to wonder why the truth was always so painful. He was almost sure it was a scientific phenomenon with a practical answer. But before he could ponder further, Myra regarded him with a disheartened sniffle.

"Y'know, Stevie. I always respected your feelings for that little tramp, even when she continues to stomp you down like grapes in a wine pit." Ouch. There's that truth again. Steve couldn't help but cringe a little. "But wanna know what's so ironic? What hurts the most is that if there's anybody in the world who could understand how I feel about loving someone who doesn't love me the same way ... it should be you."

The truth slapped him dead across the face. Stunned by her statement, he was speechless as he watched her stomp away from him and towards the gate of the yard, riddled with remorse and confusion. He had never even thought of it like that. "B-but ... I'm sorry, Myra," he croaked, hoping he'd heard her before she was out of earshot, though he couldn't have known for sure.

As he stared at the swinging gate in her wake, he was pensive. Was it really his fault that he wasn't in love with her the way she wanted him to be? It really sucked because he did like Myra a lot but at the end of the day, her possessiveness left much to be desired ...In that case, was it Laura's fault that she would never love him in that way? Jeez, who was he kidding? This conundrum was more baffling than advanced bio-mechanical engineering. With a sigh, he plopped back onto the swing and sunk into his self-pity.

But then. A hand slowly lifted to rub at his whisker-less chin, brows perking as his eyes wandered within the frames of his glasses in deep thought. When the light bulb switched, his forlorn expression lit up and his Urkel mind went awry.

 _There's only one way out of this one, Urk man,_ he dared himself, inwardly accepting the challenge. _One solitary way indeed._

* * *

 _CONTINUED in Chapter 3 -_


	3. Post-Traumatic Pest Disorder

_**CHAPTER 3: Post-Traumatic Pest Disorder**_

 _Summary: Laura tries her best to ignore recent revelations about her feelings, only to find that the more she runs from them, the more they find her._

* * *

 _ **FOUR YEARS AGO...**_

"Hey, Laura." Rachel greeted as she made her way to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. Glimpsing up, she noticed her niece sitting at the kitchen forking a piece of cake dejectedly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Laura moped as she stared pensively into space.

Rachel gave a concerned scowl. "Oh, c'mon, something's wrong. What is it?"

"I can't tell you, Aunt Rachel. It's too weird and twisted and ... sick!"

"Oooo." Rachel couldn't help but cringe at the look on Laura's face - as if she'd just been dipped in a tug of cockroaches. Must've been serious! Curious, Rachel hurried to the table with her coffee in tow and took a seat next to her. "Now, Laura. You know I've done my share of living so nothing you can say will shock me." She gave a big reassuring grin as she waited for her niece to spill the beans.

"...I miss Steve Urkel," Laura admitted meekly.

GASP. Rachel's jaw dropped as she lifted a hand to her lips in feigned shock. "Oh, you need professional help," she insisted with a sage nod.

"See, I told you!" Laura griped, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Oh, c'mon now, I'm just teasing." Rachel smiled warmly as she leaned in closer to openly ponder on the dilemma. "Let's just think this thing through. Now you convinced Steve to forget about you and concentrate on Myra, right?"

"Right. That was two weeks ago. And I haven't seen him since." And that notion, surprisingly, didn't make her feel as relieved as it should have - it showed all in her face.

"So? Why aren't you thrilled?!"

"I was at first but then ... starting a couple of days ago, I actually started to miss him." Laura paused to consider what this could possibly mean, her mouth twisting skeptically. "Do you think I could be suffering from some sort of post-traumatic pest disorder?"

Rachel giggled and gave a shake of his head, amused as she reminisced on the days of her own youth - when everything seemed so much more complicated on the surface than it really was. "No. I think there's a much more normal explanation for your feelings."

"Really? What is it?"

"Well. I think that somehow over the years, when you weren't looking, you and Steve ... became friends."

Wow ... she was right. She was so stunned at that little piece of truth that Laura barely noticed that her aunt had slowly reached over to steal away what was left of her cake.

* * *

The college textbook in Laura's hands had remained unopened in her lap for the last thirty minutes as she sat by her bedroom window, distracted from her studying by the slew of memories that had suddenly drawn her into a daze.

Her gaze was transfixed on the thick branch of the large tree outside, right where it had always served as the perfect performance perch for Steve's many late night serenades, not to mention plain ol' infiltration just to pester her.

For some reason lately, those serenades were the first thing she'd thought about whenever she managed to take a glance out of that window - just yesterday she realized he hadn't really given her one since he'd started dating Myra four years ago ... not that it mattered, right?

Did she really miss being woken up at two o'clock in the morning by loud accordion music, barking dogs, angry neighbors and nasally falsetto singing that made her want to chew rocks? Or was it that she just didn't want to admit that Steve had been the first and last thing she'd thought about every day since the auction even though she'd avoided him like the plague over the last week...

Defeated by the sudden barrage of _frightening_ revelations, she grabbed the pillow behind her and buried her face in it - a futile attempt to smother herself with a disgruntled moan, hoping that doing so would smother _the nerve_ of these thoughts along with her. Or at least give her the strength to ignore them.

"Good idea. Need any help with that?!"

Laura gasped as a merry voice rang loud against the walls of her bedroom, startled as she yanked the pillow from her face in time to see Myra fuming by the door, both fists planted firmly on her hips.

"Myra! What are you doing in my room? Don't you ever knock?!" The girl had barged into the house unannounced before but she'd never just helped herself to her room and that made Laura a little miffed. With an annoyed sigh, Laura tossed her textbook on the floor next to her feet before standing, mirroring Myra's confrontational stance as her hands, too, planted on her hips.

"And miss the opportunity of grinding that snobby little face of yours to pulp when I finally catch you slipping? Never in your life," Myra chimed so sweetly, you'd think her tongue was coated with caramel despite the violence in her words.

"Girl, what are you babbling about?" Laura asked as she sized her up with a confused scowl. This girl had driven her crazy with her irrational jealousy for years but as usual, it was hard to tell what she thinking, especially with that grin on her face that was so precious it was creepy. But Laura didn't budge as Myra closed in on her slowly.

"I just figured if I came over when no one expected me to, I could finally get answers to why my Stevie has been acting so strange lately," she sing-songed matter-of-factly, walking a slow, scavenger circle around Laura before spinning towards her quickly and shoving an accusing finger into her shoulder. "You've been lip-wrestling my man, haven't you? Admit it, you homewrecker!"

 _Le sigh._ Laura's head hung in frustration as she realized what the fuss was about this time. She had to take a moment a massage the bridge of her nose with two fingers and berate Steve in her mind. Leave it to him to remind Myra every step that he was in love with her because every time he did, it always ended with Myra threatening her in some way.

Meanwhile, outside the room, Steve, coming back from his last class, had been making his way from the top of the stairs to Eddie's room. His biology books tucked beneath his armpit, his gait was bouncy as he hummed _Doo Dah Day_ through the upstairs corridor.

Hearing voices from behind Laura's door, his curiosity got the best of him - as it always did when it came to Laura, no matter how bad he felt for being so invasive sometimes. His brows wiggling mischievously, he stopped in his tracks and skipped over to the door to press his ear up against it. Hearing the voice of the love of his life, he couldn't help but grin whimsically.

"Steve volunteered to be in my auction," she said simply, calmly, understanding why Myra was so irked but still ready to swing if she had to - this chick was crazy as hell.

"But he wouldn't have volunteered if you hadn't given him some kind of hope that it would ever work between you two and you know it. Typical for a two-timing trollop like you," Myra shaded, turning her back to Laura as her arms crossed over her chest, giving a snooty flick of her chin towards the ceiling.

Having expected to hear Stefan's voice, Steve was doubly startled to hear his girlfriend's voice instead and he dropped his books on his feet with a silent gasp ... only to silently scream when they landed on his toes, hopping from one foot to the other in pain. _Silently_ so as to not draw any attention to his eavesdropping. _Silently_ recovering, he pressed his ear back against the door and listened intently ... though one foot remained ready to bolt him into Eddie's room if he heard the slightest hint of Myra coming to the door - he just didn't want to see her right now. But he definitely wanted to know why she was confronting Laura about him!

 _Oh, no she didn't._ Laura had to look over her shoulder at whoever the heck Myra was calling a _trollop_. Becoming more irritated by the second, she lifted a finger and waved it at Myra, asserting herself firmly - not just to convince Myra, but ... hell, to convince herself: "Now, you look-a-here, Miss Thing. I _have_ a man, okay? And Steve is not even _half_ the hunk pie that _my_ man is and he never will be. So! I want you to _hear_ me - and I feel like a broken record at this point - I _do not want_ Steve."

 _... Ow_. She sounded so sure of herself. Hearing Laura's words through the door stung way more than Steve expected it to. It wasn't the first time he'd heard those words come from Laura and you'd think his armor had gotten thicker over the years ... but it was certainly the first time he'd actually believed her. His heart suddenly felt severely heavy with dejection and his shoulders sunk as a result.

"I will _never_ look at Steve in that way. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow. So you're getting your Cabbage Patch ribbons in a knot for nothing. It was just an innocent little kiss and it was for a good cause so you can help yourself to several seats, honey!"

Oh, he couldn't listen to this anymore. He should have never tried to eavesdrop to begin with! He tended to walk right into his own heartbreak like a bad habit. Angry with himself more than anything, he huffed a heavy sigh and slowly stepped away from the door and knelt to gather his books back into his arms. Every time she branded the best moments of his life as meaningless, especially when the majority of them included her, it felt like she was digging a serrated blade deeper and deeper into his chest. So much so, he actually had to lift a hand to his sternum as if to make sure his heart hadn't burst open behind his rib cage.

And for a moment, he tried to consider why it surprised him, really. And why hearing it this time hurt more than it'd ever had. Maybe because somewhere deep down, he'd tried kidding himself into believing that Laura would one day wake up to the fact that nobody would ever love her the way he did, not even his own creation Stefan Urquelle. So far, that day was still a foggy, fruitless dream that was becoming fainter by the second.

Steve stepped back from the door, pausing momentarily as he was hit with a sudden spark of scientific inspiration, his face lighting up as the drive to continue with an experiment he'd hesitantly started returned full force. First things first, though: he had to hide from Myra! That in mind, he quickly scampered into Eddie's room and locked himself inside, missing vital parts of the _femme-_ to- _femme_ conversation that continued in Laura's room, the women remaining blissfully unaware of Steve's lurking.

"You're one sick, _deplorable_ puppy, darling. Because if you don't see that Steve is hotter than a Sahara sunburn, you're nuttier than a Snickers bar," Myra declared with the ecstasy of a crazed woman in lust.

"Takes one to know one," Laura snapped back calmly before taking a stand of defense: "I'll tell you what Steve is to me. He _is_ one of my best friends and we've been friends for a very long time. If you think I would ever come in between what makes him happy, you're dead wrong."

"No, sweetie. _You're_ dead wrong. Because if you were really his friend, you would know what makes him happy and yet whenever he's _unhappy_... why, darn it, you're _always_ the reason why!" Myra giggled madly as if she'd stumbled upon an inconceivable concept. Feigning numbwittedness, her shoulders jerked in an innocent shrug as disdain dripped from her perky tone, "Funny how that works." Still ever pleasant in her delivery, somehow her voice got darker, "Now I'm only going to tell you one more time before the gloves really come off. _Stay away_ from my Stevie or face annihilation more chaotic than the last days of the dinosaurs."

This was the part where Laura would normally just roll her eyes and turn her back on this chick but instead, realizing that her even her threats were unspeakably irrational, she just seethed at her, "Myra ... we live in the same house!"

"...Oh, rats," Myra whined with a stomp of her foot once reminded of this fact. But she recovered to bark an alternative, "O-okay, within three feet then! Myra Boutrous Boutrous Muckhouse has spoken this restraining order into law!" A finger shot up towards the heavens as to insist that God himself had ordained it so.

"Can I get back to studying or do I need to throw water on you to make you melt?" Laura retorted nonchalantly. She was clearly unbothered by any declaration this fruitcake had for her - it had always been the same. Myra threatened her only to apologize to her later for overreacting and she didn't expect it to be any different this time around ... even though she'd been lying through her teeth when she said she never have or never will look at her boyfriend in that way. Well, she'd only been _partly_ lying - the 'never have' part was true. She wasn't too sure about the 'never will' anymore.

"I'll be showing myself out now, thank you," Myra said sweetly as she gave a little curtsy and spun towards the door. "Remember, the walls have eyes," she chimed as she opened the door to let herself out. Pausing, she turned to Laura as she held onto the doorknob, casting a vicious glare to her rival as she gave one final piece of her mind: "Oh, and one more little thing! Just thought I'd remind you - in case you forgot - you wouldn't even have _your_ 'hunk pie' of a man if it wasn't for _mine_. After all, you are the type of girl that leaves much to be desired from a man that isn't ... _artificial_." A big grin sprung to her face and she gave a peppy wiggle of her fingers as she bid her a chipper farewell: "Toodles!"

Normally, a snarky comment like that would incense Laura to the point of wanting to beat her into the ground. Not only did Myra slam the door behind her before she had the opportunity to pounce her ... it was the first time anything the girl said actually lit a fire under her so intense. Instead of unleashing a rage on Myra, though, she found herself stunned into silence as she calmly considered those words, her eyes wandering in deep thought as a bowling ball of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach.

...Myra wasn't right, was she? Was that why nobody she'd ever dated before Stefan made her feel the way he did? It was almost an impossibility to feel like anything but a piece of meat when other men were concerned - the only men in the world who'd ever made her feel worthy of being loved had been Steve, who she was trying to convince herself was still the most unattractive man on the planet ... and her _artificial_ boyfriend. Jeez, that damn word bothered her. Artificial?! Scoffing off the notion, she tried her best to return to studying, knowing that when she saw Stefan later for their date, she'd feel a lot better. She _had_ to feel better. Somehow.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT NIGHT**_

This had always been Laura's favorite part of any day that she got to see Stefan and she didn't know what more she could ask for. Curled up in her gorgeous man's arms atop Paradise Bluff in his new silver Corvette convertible was as close to perfection as she could imagine. And quite impressive, too - she couldn't say she was _that_ upset at him for staying in Paris for so long; modeling must've been lucrative because look at this ride!

Her head nuzzled comfortably on his shoulder, entranced by his hypnotizing aroma as he caressed her forearm like she was a precious jewel. His cheek rested gently against the crown of her head and his opposite hand laced affectionately with hers. They both seemed content with just mellowing out to the soothing melody of Babyface's _Never Keeping Secrets_ crooning softly through the stereo.

This had been the first night in two whole weeks that she'd been able to see him and it had been one of the most agonizing waits of her life. Not necessarily because she ached to seize any moment to escape with Stefan whenever he didn't happen to be so busy working, but because she'd spent it ducking and dodging Steve at any chance she could when she wasn't forced to be in the same room with him.

While this would come to no surprise to anyone that knew her, what they didn't know was the reason why. And this time, it wasn't because she wanted to keep herself from strangling him. Sure, the guy had been like human super glue her whole life - no matter how much she'd dodged him, somehow he always managed to wiggle his way back into her heart - and now her mind - at every turn. And her conversation with Myra earlier certainly didn't help matters any! Like she'd reminded her earlier, the man ended up living in her house, for Chrissake!

But like her Aunt Rachel had once said, somewhere along the line she had been forced to admit that her life couldn't have blossomed the way it did without Steve around, for good or for bad. And she couldn't help but feel grateful to him, no matter how nauseous it made her feel ... _used_ to make her feel.

But she didn't want to think about the real reason why her nerdy friend had been on her mind so much lately. She didn't even want to conceive of it, especially not right now. She just wanted to get away and forget about everything - mid-terms, work, team meetings, Myra drama ... _Steve_ \- for just a little while. And Stefan Urquelle had always proven to be the perfect remedy.

With the convertible top down, the young couple were rewarded a breathtaking view of the heavens, the clear starlit night sky serving as the most romantic setting for their first evening alone in almost a month. "The stars are out tonight. They're so beautiful."

"That they are," Stefan agreed, peering down to her in order to admire the form of her face. "But they also must be jealous."

She looked up to him curiously. "Oh? Why?"

"Because you're a Goddess and they know they're only half as beautiful as the stars in your eyes," he purred wryly to her with a tone that made her heart skip a beat, his hand unraveling from hers in order to gently graze her jaw with his fingertips. "Half the brightness and barely half the sparkle."

 _Goodness gracious._ The sultry fire in his voice made her shudder. The smoldering dominance in his eyes was far too alluring to behold - he had the power to break her down with just one look. He whispered those Stefan-ized sweet nothings to her almost constantly whenever they were together and they always made her weak in the knees ... tonight moreso than usual. She was convinced: his mind-numbing sexiness would be the death of her. In that moment, just like she wished for all day, she suddenly forgot who Steve even was ... or even her own name, for that matter.

"Oh, _Stefan_ ..." she purred as her attraction to him kicked into full gear and he became instantly irresistible. Not unlike many times before, she was suddenly stuck on him like a bee to honey, the kiss she laid on him making him see more than stars.

It wasn't the first time he'd almost drowned kissing Laura Winslow when her inner tigress leaped out and each time, he hoped it wasn't the last because barely breathing never felt so fabulous. But before he knew it, she had climbed on top of his lap and asserted her eagerness unabashedly, in a way even he couldn't have anticipated. In a way that made him wonder if his smooth Stefan-isms had finally gotten the best of her. If the top hadn't been down, the windows would have fogged instantly! Seemed to him that she just wasn't herself tonight ... for some reason, he'd figured that since the moment she got into the car.

The horn of his car honked loudly as Laura pinned him against his seat, her hips smashing against the steering wheel as she completely invaded the driver's side, including what felt like, to him, every inch of his body as she straddled his lap. Stunned and breathless, Stefan couldn't help but momentarily flail, a hand clawing against the window to keep from sinking farther into the seat. He suddenly felt like a tasty meal that she'd been starving to consume for weeks.

And his body couldn't help but respond ... did she just grind against him?! Almost gasping for air as she finally broke away, that air was exhaled just as quickly when her lips only fell against his ear instead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as the heat of her tongue flicked his earlobe. His hands curled around the fabric of her skirt for dear life. Lord Have Mercy! Now he _knew_ she wasn't herself. She'd never been a shy kisser ... but she'd also never been a ... _grinder_! As quickly as those thoughts flashed to him, he was stutter-brained in any consideration to stop her ... for obvious reasons.

"Mmm. I wonder what that is in your pocket..." she whispered seductively against his ear in a way that melted his boxers, her hands taking ahold of the collar of his shirt, her fingers sneakily picking apart the first few buttons.

"I'm not the only one that's happy to see you," Stefan confessed breathlessly as he became weaker and weaker beneath her ravishing. But it was only when he felt her a hand start to grope away at his bare chest after she got his shirt partially open did he balk, suddenly stiffening with incertainty as he grabbed her hand and tried to lean away from her ... as if that were even possible already pinned against the seat. "L-Laura, Laura, wait-wait ..." he stuttered, his hesitance causing Laura to pause her eager journey to a happy ending as she sat up to look at him, her face riddled with confusion at the disapproving knit in his brows. "... This isn't like you," Stefan said once he could see her eyes again, regarding her with curiosity. It was as if she'd gotten into his car a different person and he had to wonder why.

"What do you mean? I've suffocated you before and you never complained," Laura asked, her shoulders visibly sinking because of the embarrassment that began to burgeon at his sudden rejection of her. "What is it? Am I too fat or something? Dress too long? Cleavage too covered, what?"

"No, no! _Believe me_ , Princess, you're absolutely perfect and I am _not_ complaining at all," Stefan insisted gently, a hand rubbing at her arm reassuringly. "It's just ... Laura, we decided we wanted to wait, right?"

Damn. She'd really hoped he hadn't remembered that conversation. Leave it to Stefan to take the moral high ground every single time. Somehow, that notion just brought her thoughts right back to Steve since he was the exact same way. Sighing in disappointment, she slowly made moves to get off of his lap and return to the passenger-side seat, sinking into it as her arms crossed her chest as if she were suddenly naked. "Yeah. We did," she sighed with her confirmation, now unable to look him in the eye.

She'd felt as if she'd made a complete fool of herself to think that Stefan would help her pull the trigger on her endeavor to get utterly lost in him. And now the more she settled into her embarrassment, the more she wished Steve was here to help her feel better the way he used to whenever she just felt like dying. Picking any random spot out of the window to stare at, she momentarily considered jumping out of the car and making a run for it.

"So, what's the rush all of a sudden?" he asked tightly, confused by her sudden, dejected withdrawal from him as he sat up straight in the seat and brushed the wrinkles out of his suit jacket. It hadn't been his intention to offend her or anything. He would never pressure her to do anything she didn't want to do and she knew that ... so why she was suddenly pressuring _him_ instead? At least it felt that way but he didn't want to jump to conclusions - maybe he really was just _that_ irresistible tonight.

Slowly recovering from her alarmingly uncharacteristic, yet enjoyable lust assault, he squirmed a little in his seat in an attempt to peacefully calm the aggressive salute of his soldier ... _ahem_. Buttoning his shirt back up, he gently leaned into her and placed a hand on her knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze, trying to coax her into talking to him after her silence became far too thick and tense. "Laura. Baby, c'mon now, you know you can tell me anything. What's wrong?" he asked again, putting on his suave airs in an delicate attempt to win her affection as his hand reached for hers.

She seemed disappointed - even angry - that he didn't want to breach their agreement. He was just as anxious as the next guy but this was the love of his life - he wanted it to be the most special moment of both their lives, not a reckless moment of weakness. And he refused to spare the experience at any expense, no matter if it happened now or later. Right now just seemed far too rushed. He'd be damned if he was forced to look back on their first time and cringe at the memory.

"There's no rush, Stefan," Laura finally sighed after allowing the discomfort of her embarrassment to pass, allowing her hand to be taken as she finally gaze over to him, allowing the words to spill, not even sure if she believed them herself despite how sincere she sounded. It wasn't that it wasn't the truth. It was that it wasn't the _whole_ truth: "I just don't wanna lose you again. It seems like every time I let myself love you ... you leave me. Just the thought of you walking out of my life again makes me not wanna wait anymore."

By Stefan's expression, she could tell that everything coming out of her mouth must've sounded ridiculous to him and it made her sink even deeper into her self-loathing. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she wondered whether or not he knew what she was really thinking.

"Laura, I love you even if the way we got together wasn't your conventional courtship, y'know," he said, hoping logic was enough to quell her concerns since it didn't really matter to him how they met or even how their relationship managed to last despite the chaos. "Expecting to lose me is like expecting the sun to stop shining." It wasn't like he'd met her at a school dance, a classroom, or a cafeteria table and got a chance to get to know her as a friend or anything. He literally came to exist, laid his eyes on her, and instantly fell madly in love and that was the way he always saw it - that she was the _one_. End of story.

"I know. But that's another thing, I ..." Laura, on the other hand, had known him as Steve Urkel her entire life until one day Steve got the bright idea of to make himself _cool_. Laura never even realized that _she'd_ been the one that'd put him up to it to this day. So now she had to wonder if it was her fault that she couldn't decide whether or not love was supposed to be organic or manufactured. The musing led her to her next concern, the one that had been nagging at her since she allowed Myra to get under her skin earlier: "How do I even know that this is real? The circumstances never seem right."

Stefan's brows perked in surprise at her question, recalling a few moments ago when she almost sucked his tonsils out of his throat. Yeah, she was being ridiculous and just to tease her about it, his eyes lowered to his lap where she'd just got done pelvis-bumping him and quipped, "Circumstances seem all right to me."

"I'm serious, Stefan," Laura replied solemnly and deflated Stefan out of his amusement. "How do I know we're both not just chasing a dream? That this isn't ... _artificial_." There was that stupid word again! God, she had to remember to lock her door the next time she tried to study because now she couldn't stop thinking about what Myra had said to her.

"Chasing a dream? Artificial? Laura, you _are_ my dream to chase," he said, almost offended that she would think otherwise. Yeah, it was true, with him being a model and one of the most popular guys in the city, Stefan had moments when he was feeling himself a little too much and he knew that - their relationship had been on the rocks more than once because of his tendency to be self-absorbed. But he had no idea he'd been giving her the impression that his love for her wasn't real!

He felt obligated to convince her, grabbing her hand with both hands and lifting it to his lips for a kiss against her knuckles. The honey oozing in his voice wasn't by accident, "And I'll be on bended knee for the rest of my life if it means making you happy, baby girl. I'm here in Chicago with you and I'm not leaving you again. Everything I am, Laura Winslow, I owe to you."

 _Actually ... you owe it to Steve ..._ was, amazingly, the first thought that came to her mind despite the magic he tried to use on her with his Stefan-isms. For some reason though, they weren't penetrating as deeply as they had been just a moment ago, not even when his lips brushed the skin of her hand. All she could do was offer a coy smile, though the typical shudders and purrs had faded. "And besides, you already know I have every intention on marrying you," he offered, trying to throw her another line to hook onto. "We'll have plenty of time to share our love for each other in that way."

"... Right," Laura conceded halfheartedly, suddenly acting as if the world had fallen right on her shoulders as her eyes dropped to her lap. Stefan felt the passiveness in her reaction and became more concerned by the second. Lucky for him, his poker face was solid and he tried his best not to let on that she was ... kind of worrying him.

"Laura." He leaned into her and tilted his head in an attempt to find her eyes again.

"Yeah?" she croaked, looking up at him hesitantly in fear that he would see the tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"...You still wanna get married, right?" He was almost afraid to ask. And now he was even more afraid of the answer, trying to slip an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her, but balked in surprise at the next words that came out of her mouth. Not an answer to his question but another unrelated demand altogether that was enough to throw anybody off.

"Stefan ... I wanna go home now."

He blinked, perplexed as he saw her become uneasy and shrink away from him. As if _he'd_ been the one that came onto _her_ too strong. Jeez, all because he wanted their first time to be more special than a parking date at Paradise Bluff?

"...What? Why?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as offended as he felt. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, Laura. We haven't been alone in over a month and we don't have to be back for a couple hours," he reasoned, almost desperately, in hopes she'd change her mind since he really had been looking forward to being with her for what felt like an eternity. And he certainly didn't want their date to end like _this_. But it seemed out of his control when she insisted. And he certainly wasn't going to beg... much.

"Please? I'm ... I'm tired," she lied, taking a glimpse over to him and feeling her stomach drop at the look of utter disappointment and what looked like concern in his expression. "I'll make it up to you. We'll go see a movie tomorrow after you get off work or something," she added, eager to convince him that her desire to go home had nothing to do with him.

In reality, even though she didn't really want to leave their date and she really had missed him this last week, she knew she had to make sure he wasn't around when she had her nervous breakdown. Why? Because the constant thoughts of Steve that had assaulted her the last week had effectively won the war over her battles of trying to distract herself and had overpowered any hope that Stefan would be her remedy tonight.

Here she was in the arms of this gorgeous man - artificial or not - who was asking her to marry him and she couldn't stop thinking about whether or not she'd done the right thing asking Steve to manufacture her dream guy for her.

"Laura. Are you sure you're all right?" Stefan asked a final time, hoping that she would be open enough to tell him what the real problem was.

"I'm fine. I just need to lay down," Laura insisted, almost snappy but managed to gnaw on her tongue enough to mask her impatience. Aside from being angry at herself for letting her thoughts get the best of her, she knew that if she didn't lay down soon, she just might blow chunks all over his fly upholstery - the implications of her thoughts alone were beginning to make her feel feverish. She nervously nibbled at her fingernails, once again refusing to make eye contact with him as she anxiously waited to feel the car shift gears and roll back from the bluff's cliff.

Seeing that she wasn't biting, Stefan surrendered dishearteningly as he did just that, giving a small, disappointed shrug in the process. "Okay." He began to drive away, but not before casting his fickle girlfriend a long and hard scrutinizing look of concern, burning a hole in the side of her face as she put in extra effort to avoid his gaze.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 4_


	4. By the Light of the Cupcake

_**CHAPTER 4: By the Light of the Cupcake**_

 _Summary: Steve, feeling unloved and ignored on his birthday, retreats to his lab to work on his latest experiment._

* * *

It was a pretty pitiful sight indeed - there Steve was, seated at the Winslow kitchen table by his lonesome in a party hat, his chin perched in the palm of his hand as he stared dolefully at the lit candle grounded in the chocolate frosting of a single cupcake plated before him. Despite the few balloons and festive party confections brightening the table around him, he looked absolutely miserable as he sang 'Happy Birthday' dismally to himself.

"... Happy Birthdaaaay ... Dear Stevie-Who-We-Love-And-Admiiiiirrrre ..." he sang, speaking for all the loved ones who obviously exhibited the contrary. _I'd give anything to actually hear that for once from somebody other than Myra._ His own parents often regarded him as the worst mistake of their lives - they moved to Russia without telling him, for Pete's sake! And he knew the Winslows made a constant effort in avoiding him at all costs - they always had. And now with Myra being still upset at him for kissing Laura, the only person that acknowledged he was turning 20 so far had been his own reflection. He sighed heavily with dejection. "Happy Biiirthdaaay ... toooo ...meeeee."

Once again hearing crickets, he resolved to create his own one-man celebration, never-minding how pathetic he looked as he halfheartedly blew out the lone candle, picked up a party horn and gave it a single jubilating puff, then finally grabbed a handful of confetti and tossed it so that the colorful paper shreds rained over him. Some Birthday. His chin slowly returned to his palm as he continued to stare at his cupcake, utterly depressed.

It certainly wasn't the first time he'd spent his birthday by himself, but he figured by the time he became an adult and hit the big 2-0, things would be different. He had hoped everyone would finally get over their hang-ups about him and just learn to accept him - it was clear he continued to stumble through life kidding himself.

He could only figure that civilized society was still not ready for his larger-than-life persona and he had to wonder if changing himself at all would help. He spent the momentary silence that followed considering what new look he was going to try next for his makeover.

"Oh. Hi, Steve," greeted Carl, the Winslow patriarch entered the kitchen through the back door in his Captain's uniform, making a cavalier beeline for the stairs with his bag in tow.

"Sure," Steve murmured begrudgingly, not budging as he watched Carl pass right by him and completely ignore the obvious pity party he was throwing himself ... until he spotted him stop in his tracks to pivot in his direction. Steve perked as he saw the Big Guy taking notice.

"Heeeeey. Wait a minuuuteee..." Carl mused wistfully as if he'd just stumbled upon an epiphany, his brows knitted curiously as he regarded the now eager Steve.

"Yes-yes-yes?" he asked earnestly, alight with hope as he leaned towards Carl for the response he was looking for.

"Is that the last cupcake?" Carl finally asked passively, pointing to the lone dessert in front of Steve indicatively.

"... No," Steve answered tightly, discouraged as he deflated back into his self-pity, "There's plenty more."

"Oh. Good." Completely missing the despondency seeping out of Steve, Carl spun towards the stairs again in apathy, only to be balked by Steve's next doleful statement.

"But there's only one day you turn 20," he griped sadly, causing Carl to pause again and turn back to Steven to give him his full attention, this time appearing shocked that'd he forgotten ... probably because Steve hadn't made a big show out of it this year; usually Carl knew to prepare for the nerd's birthday by way of his overly-dramatic fanfare/countdown that sparked a warning like clockwork a week prior.

"Steve... is _today_ your birthday?" he asked rhetorically, shame-faced as he stepped to Steve's side.

" _Noooo_ ," Steve replied caustically, dramatically beaming with sarcasm as he gave a dismissive swat of his hand, his acerbic words biting as his voice rose in volume to shrieking levels on the tail-end of his burgeoning frustration: "There was a blackout and I decided to read by THE LIGHT OF THE CUPCAKE!"

Like, seriously, you'd think after eight years of his fanfares, _somebody_ would have remembered by now, especially Carl! Oh, the _agony_ of having an IQ over 180 - geniuses were cursed, it seemed to Steve. He gave a roll of his eyes, clearly agitated as his chin once again found a place on his palm.

Carl cringed at Steve's shrill tantrum but he couldn't say he blamed him for being upset - even though he'd never admit it, Carl knew himself to get pretty depressed whenever anybody forgot his birthday and he shouldn't have expected Steve to feel any different. "Gee, I'm ..." he murmured, genuinely remorseful as he put his bag down on the island counter and stepped to Steve, patting him apologetically on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Steve. I had to work a double shift today and I guess ... I just forgot."

"Yeah, so did the rest of the civilized world!" Steve cried in disappointment as he stood up from the table to pace pensively across the kitchen. " _Everybody_ forgot! Let's face it, Carl. I am _not_ loved," he whined despondently.

"Ohhh, now that is not true!" Carl insisted, even though he was still having a very difficult time accepting that Steve had become almost like his adoptive son. _Almost_. "We all-uh-uhh.." He began strong in his attempt to convince Steve of the latter, but the words got caught just at the edge of his lips before rolling off in a stutter as Steve looked on: "...we all l-luh ... l-luh ... l-luh-luh- _love_ you." ...He resisted the urge to scrape his tongue against his teeth to the get the taste of that statement out of his mouth and simply mustered a forced smile.

"...Do you love me enough to stay up and play Twister all night?!" Steve finally asked, hopeful after absorbing and accepting the bald-faced lie his hero just told him. Maybe if he asked quick enough, he'd get a 'yes' for once. It was his birthday after all!

"No way," Carl bellowed back instantly with a determined scowl.

...Or not. Looks like Steve still wasn't witty enough when it came to tricking the Big Guy into spending time with him and he deflated back into his disappointment. _..._ Such is life. Only _his_ life, it seemed. At least he managed to get a pity invite to Carl's duck hunting trip next weekend and since Steve was a glass-half-full type of guy, he considered it a belated Birthday present. All was not that bad with the world.

Too bad the one person he really wanted acknowledgement from had been much harder to track down lately for some reason. He was willing to be his life savings that the chances of running into Laura at all today were slim to none... especially since he wasn't even sure he had it in him to even seek her out.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING**_

Since Carl seemed hell-bent on preventing him from continuing his experiments in the Winslow household, Steve had set up shop at his University lab that the Science Department had granted him as apart of his scholarship. Even though it was the weekend and the sun had gone down, he had access to the lab at all times and it tended to serve as the perfect hiding spot during those rare occasions when he just didn't care to be seen by anybody. Locking himself away to tend to his experiments when he was depressed had always been extremely therapeutic.

More than that, now seemed like the perfect time to continue work on a complicated molecular extraction he'd been trying to perfect every since the idea came to him the night after his confrontation with Myra. Since plans to celebrate his blooming into manhood seemed like a bust, he figured occupying his mind with the experiment's next phases was the next best way to spend his first day as a 20 year-old-future-Nobel-Prize-winner.

Seated on a stool by the main counter hovering over an electron microscope, he was clad from head to toe in flamboyantly colorful wild-west-style Cowboy attire - white spurred boots, blue slacks and bright orange leather chaps, a stitched long-sleeved red shirt, a black bandanna, and a huge, white Stetson. What made the get-up even more odd was the fact that his white lab coat added to the downright clownish nature of the costume, along with his large black rubber gloves, and a pair of safety goggles perched high on the rim of his cowboy hat.

He mumbled calculations under his breath to himself as he moved from the microscope to a bubbling yellow mixture heated in a flask over a Bunsen burner, grabbing several other flasks around his workstation and carefully adding the contents to the mixture until it began to settle. Satisfied, he grinned with excitement before grabbing the flask off the burner and _very carefully_ pouring it into another one off to the side that could have easily been mistaken for a lemonade pitcher. Since it was only him there, he didn't bother with labeling it.

"Break out the Twister, you steamy loveboat, because we got a birthday to celebrate!"

Severely startled by the sound of Myra's twittery voice echoing against the lab walls, Steve nearly dropped the flasks in his hands as his flinching almost caused him to fall right off the stool. Somehow managing to steady himself and his experiment without ruining it- which couldn't have been easy wearing those spurs, he carefully placed the flasks back on his workstation and snapped in her direction as he stood upright: "Jeepers, woman! _Not while I'm pouring!_ " he seethed in frustration.

People knew he was extremely clumsy so why didn't they ever listen to him when he tried to warn them _not to do that?!_ Only as he recovered from the shock of her sudden appearance did he realize he should probably look for somewhere to hide now - alas, Myra had found him. His guard shooting up, he regarded her cautiously. "...What are you doing here?"

"You didn't think I'd forget about your big day, now did you?" she chimed gleefully from the doorway of the lab with an adorable smile, carrying a picnic basket in one hand and a bundle of a dozen balloons with Steve's face on them in the other. Giddy with excitement, she began to skip over to her honeybuns when she paused in confusion, sizing up his costume with an intrigued tilt of her head. "... Steven, did you take up donkey herding again?"

Steve took a step back as she took a step forward, shrinking away anxiously since Myra always proved to be unpredictable at times, but seeing the festive items in her hands softened him slightly since he'd been looking forward for his birthday to be acknowledged all day, even if Myra had always been the only one to acknowledge it every year. "Not this time," he replied, still wary but a little more relaxed, "Just searching for my new look. Don't know about this one, though - this hat has been getting caught in doors all day."

"New look? Stevie, why on Earth would you ever want to change yourself?" Myra closed in on him and by the way she glided, he assumed he was safe from assault - Myra was no joke when she was angry. But as always, even if they'd had the worst fight a couple could have, she would always show up again as if it'd never happened, trying desperately to mend her perfect fantasy back together.

"You're perfect just the way you are; sexy asks _you_ how to be," she purred as she closed the distance between them, dropping the basket on the counter and tying off the balloons to it before reaching up to remove that umbrella of a hat from his head. Along with his goggles, she tossed them dismissively aside, slinking her arms around his neck so that she could deliver a lascivious whisper to him, "Besides, if you're thinking of a wardrobe change ... I suggest your birthday suit. It's far more fitting for today."

"Myra!" Steve cried as he reddened with embarrassment, her shameless and explicit remarks about him never failing to shock his sense of chastity. "B-but ... I thought you were angry with me," he bashfully added once he then realized she really did come in peace. He allowed himself to relax against her as she embraced him, his gloved hands hesitant and unsure as they settled on her waist.

"Oh, pish-posh!" she chirped with a dismissive swat at the air, "Anger is only temporary. But passion for that bodacious bod lasts a lifetime," she purred as she grinned impishly and nuzzled her nose against his with a giggle. "Now, stop worrying your handsome little buns and let's make a toast, birthday boy."

Myra torn herself away from her love muffin and reached for two plastic flutes from the basket and before Steve could protest or stop her - since he'd been too dazed from the alluring power of her sweet nothings to notice right away - she'd already picked up one of the pitchers from his station and filled the glasses with what she assumed to be lemonade, forcing one into his hand as she lifted the other into the air. "To you, my sweet Stevie, who is now one year closer to finally fulfilling my child-bearing needs. Cheers!"

"M-Myra, no-no! Don't drink that!" Steve scrambled to grab the flute from her hands after having accidentally spilled his flute onto the counter in his quest to stop her. Thankfully, his reflexes had been quick enough to snatch it before she drank it, but not before the rapid yanking motion sent his arm crashing right into the cross-tubed setup of his station, sparks flying as chemicals splattered and violently shorted his computer. Glass flew in every direction and all of the flasks except the final yellow compound in the lemonade pitcher crashed to the ground.

They both flinched, ducked, and dodged until the sparking contraption settled to a smoky calm. "Look what you did..." Steve griped calmly in the lingering, foggy silence with a shameful shake of his head at Myra before mourning the ruins that used to be his station with a long-faced pout.

Myra's eyes widened in confusion at his wild reaction to her attempt to toast him, scrutinizing the yellow compound with curiosity. "I'm so sorry, honey lump! ... Not lemonade?"

"Ding, ding, ding! How'd ya guess?!" Steve retorted sarcastically before lifting the half-empty pitcher eye-level. "It's my new potion and it's _very_ dangerous, pooh bear! Why, if it got into the wrong hands, all human relationships on the planet could be destroyed single-handedly, unraveling the little peace left across the globe for generations!" he explained tightly as he quickly recovered what was left of the compound and made the hasty decision to put it in a safer container.

Finding one with a lid, he began to pour it, warning her, "One sip of this stuff and your Urkel-worshiping days are over!" ...Pausing in mid-pour, his eyes shifted impishly between her and the compound. "On second thought ..." he murmured to himself, considering that maybe _that's_ what he really wanted ... but before he could ponder on it further, he quickly saw that she was unbothered by his warning by the way she shuddered with passion and shimmied closer to him like a moth to a flame - he somehow forgot that science only turned her on; it never warded her off. That automatically made her a case to be reckoned with - _naaah_ , he shook off the temptation to de-Urkel-ize her and decided to stick to his original plan. Besides, it'd be pretty idiotic of him to do away with his only cheerleader.

"Ooooo, _Stevie_. If only you knew what you do to me when you get all 'mad scientist'. Hurt me, baby," she growled seductively as she reached around to goose his tush, causing him to squirm and wiggle with a high-pitched giggle - he was extremely ticklish! Exhilirated but still feeling somewhat violated, he skedaddled away and created just enough distance between them so that he could finish pouring, labeling, and lidding the compound, piquing Myra's intrigue further as she watched, "What exactly is your _hot_ , brilliant mind cooking up this time, my little sugarpuff?"

"Uhhh ..." Steve croaked nasally in hesitation as he turned to her, clutching the freshly contained potion against his chest protectively. "Uh, well, I'm afraid I can't tell you, cuddlebug."

"Well, why not?" Myra demanded with a pout, her fists planting firmly on her hips ... a tell-tale sign that he'd better tread lightly into some kind of explanation.

When he couldn't find one that didn't involve lying, he resorted to stuttered dodges, "Uhhh, it's a, uh ... well, it's a ... it's-it's kinda personal! Uh -" A snap of his fingers once the right word finally came to him, throwing it at her with a confident point of his index finger: " _Confidential_."

Of course Myra was unsatisfied with that answer, but she seemed to be on her best behavior. "Steven, there's been a lot of things you've been keeping from me lately and you should never keep secrets from a future Mrs. Urkel," she chimed calmly, slowly stepping up to him and giving his forearm a soothing caress. "And while I won't say it doesn't worry me ... I trust you."

Steve felt horrible for keeping it from her - he was usually itching to let someone know when he'd made an important breakthrough but he had told her the truth: this experiment was personal and he had every intention of destroying the results after he conducted it - no need to disclose to her what he was up to; she was much better off not knowing.

It was just ... keeping secrets made him felt dirtier than a sewer pond and he couldn't help to be a little surprised that he didn't have to make much of a case - Myra was pretty aggressive when it came to him, after all. "You do?" he asked meekly as he put the compound away, tucking it into the inside pocket of his lab coat.

"Absolutely," she confirmed with a big reassuring smile, once again closing the distance between them in order to claim his space as her own. "As much as I disapprove of your covortings with that fermented lamb chop, today is your day and I don't want to spend it upset with you."

Steve gave a modest little smirk, dramatically blushing, "Ohh, thank you, buttercup. You're really the best tootin' gal-pal a guy could ask for!" He sighed wistfully as he allowed himself to finally relax, relieved that he was off the hook. And even better, he actually had someone to spend his birthday with after all! Perking up as a result, he took a quick step back to open his arms wide with a bright grin. "I'm peanut butter!"

"I'm jelly!" Myra chirped in response and her arms flew open as well.

"Sandwich!" they cried in unison as they smashed together in a spirited embrace, nuzzling cheeks with peppy fervor. Leaning back from her momentarily, Steve kept his arms around her waist as he regarded her with a gracious smile, "Y'know, you're the only one who remembered my birthday this year." Blink. He peered into space pensively for a second when he then realized, "Come to think of it ... you're the only one who ever remembers."

Myra giggled with pride and elation at his vague acknowledgment of what she already knew was true: "I'm also the only one who sees you for the incredible catch you really are, handsome," she purred as her arms slinked around his neck, slowly tugging him down to her as she then whispered affectionately, "I adore you in all your amazing, hunk-a-dacious glory. That makes me the only one for you, Steven."

He couldn't really argue with that, especially not when she smashed her lips against his in a passionate kiss that made his spurs spin, giving him virtually no window to protest. Her kisses usually had him feeling like he'd been thrown off a roller-coaster, but she was surprisingly gentle this time, making it easy to fall against her lips without feeling like he had to buckle up. And considering how deprived he'd been feeling lately, there was very little room for resistance and, ignoring his better judgement, he allowed himself to kiss her back just as passionately.

... Laura took note of that as well as she accidentally witnessed their moment through the large observation window outside of the lab as she rounded the corner of the hallway, a neatly gift-wrapped box in one hand and a birthday card in the other. The amorous sight grinding her gait to a halt as her heart hop-scotched to her throat, she wasn't sure if the sour sting she felt in the pit of her gut was because of the sushi she'd had earlier or because she wished she'd walked by maybe a few minutes later.

It probably would have helped to have just found Steve earlier that morning before she left for work, but she'd only remembered that it was his birthday when she came home and saw the decorations left over from his one-man celebration. Considering she had been deliberately dodging her socially-inept friend for weeks now only to realize she'd completely forgotten about his birthday too was far more guilt to stomach than she would have liked.

Quickly finding him a present he might like, she actively sought him out to give it to him, no matter how unsettling the thought of facing him felt. He'd never forgotten her birthday - the least she could do was show that same courtesy in return ... only to turn the corner to become even more unsettled.

She gradually shrunk away to remain inconspicuous, though sneaking a double-take as she slowly backed away from view. There had been a time when seeing Steve kissing Myra made her feel relieved that the focus wasn't on her for once. But the emotions that riddled her in that moment were incredibly foreign and confusing; she couldn't figure out why watching Steve kiss his girlfriend - as he had every right to do - made her feel rueful, envious, and ashamed ... and why, for some reason, it made her think of Stefan.

Actually, she'd been dodging him lately, too ... ever since the night she made a complete fool out of herself, she hadn't had the courage to answer any of his calls and had yet to make it up to him like she'd promised. Boy, could the guilt lay on any _thicker_? She exhaled sharply, warding off the sudden nausea that weakened her core just a little.

But this was a good thing, right? If Steve was making things work with Myra, there was no reason to even entertain any of these funny little musings she'd been having like little annoying brain sneezes lately. They came and they went constantly, always itching the back of her mind, but never blooming in depth enough to convince her that she actually believed in them.

Coming to this revelation with an internal sigh of relief, she quickly brushed off the abrupt internal struggle, knelt by the door in order to leave the present and card beside it. Maybe seeing those two was just the confirmation she needed. Carefully backing away so as to not be spotted, she pivoted and marched with determination back around the corner. _What the hell are you thinking, Laura?_ she chastised herself as she made a beeline for home. She had to call her man.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5_


	5. Achy-Breaky Revelations

_**CHAPTER 5: Achy-Breaky Revelations**_

 _Summary: Caught in a web of confusion, Steve debates whether or not to induce a cure for his wishful thinking and looks to Eddie for some insight._

* * *

 _ **THREE YEARS AGO**_

He. Was. Amazing. Stefan Urquelle had treated her to the best date of her life and she was stumped on how to possibly repay him - it doesn't get any better when you get to be serenaded by Freddie Jackson. It was as if he'd fallen right out of heaven and countered a lifetime of disappointments in the form of her dream come true. Nothing could have expressed her absolute obsession with him more than the aggressive kiss she'd stolen from him earlier, leaving him whip-lashed and dizzied.

All of these new and wonderful feelings had her nose wide open. It could only bring her to one conclusion as she stood before him, entranced by his smoldering, brown eyes as he regarded her like the most precious jewel on the planet, patiently waiting for her to reveal what she wanted to say. "I think ... well ..." she murmured as her sincere gaze trained on him, her fingers gently lacing his as she softly confessed, "I think I'm falling in love with you."

That made Stefan's heart feel as light as a feather. He seemed to swell with unspeakable gratitude as his hands squeezed her affectionately, completely humbled by her confession. "...Oh, Laura. If only you knew how long I've waited to hear those words. Why, you've made me -" And just like that, the sap record scratched - Steve's nasally falsetto abruptly replaced the bass in Stefan's voice mid-sentence: "- _the happiest man on Earth_...!" Blink. His face instantly soured with confusion.

And as quickly as that moment soared above all of Laura's expectations - that tender moment of her heart spilling over unchecked with a confession to the man of her dreams - it was a moment snatched right out of her grip and she was suddenly free-falling into the pits of horror. Immediately releasing his hands as if touching him was suddenly toxic to her health, her own lifted to catch her jaw as it dropped in shock. "...Oh, _no_ ..." she uttered gravely. This was _so_ not happening. Not _now_!

"... I don't know - w-what just happened?" he asked, bewildered as his gaze swept the walls of his basement as if he'd find an answer around there somewhere. He sounded like Stefan ... he still _looked_ like Stefan ... And for a second, Laura's hope had potential to be restored. She regarded him anxiously.

"All of a sudden you sounded like Steve Urkel..." she told him, slightly thrown off by the fact that _he_ was the only one who could really say what was going on - this whole transformation business was his invention, right? She'd thought he had to take an antidote to de-Stefanize himself. Either way, all she wanted to hear was that it wouldn't happen again.

"Yeah, I know ... but that's -" Stefan croaked, again taking on the voice of his nerdy counterpart mid-sentence. "- _impossible_! ...Isn't it?!" And this time, it wasn't just a brief hiccup in the proceedings.

Laura wanted to cringe. His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to the crooning ocean waves of Stefan's voice. By the way his posture suddenly stiffened and the way he began to squint in a near-sighted struggle to see her, there was little mistaking that Steve had indeed made an uninvited reentry into a nearly perfect fairy-tale.

And Laura was having none of it. Before he knew it, Steve was being shaken by the wrath of unsatisfied, love-angry aggression and he shrieked in surprise as she more or less manhandled him like a ragdoll. "... _GO AWAY_ , STEVE!" she roared after yanking his lapels hard enough to lift him off the ground. Her logic was simple: maybe if she shook him hard enough, she could rattle the Urkel right out of him because... "I WANT MY MAN BACK!"

"L-Laura! Laura-Laura! Calm down! N-no sweat, my pet - no sweat!" Steve managed to squeal while he was being earthquaked. When she finally released him to seethe violently in frustration, he perked in an attempt to offer reassurance, "N-now, don't get yourself all twitter-peeted! I'll just hop into the Transformation Chamber for a little Stefan-Pick-Me-Up."

"Yes! GO," Laura demanded firmly as she started to shoo him towards the chamber and he squirreled his way over and quickly climbed in, fearing the consequences of her wrath if he didn't move fast enough.

"I'll just be a jiffy! Uh - _Stefan_ will just be a jiffy!" he chirped as he peered out at her, hoping to again reassure her but no sooner than the sentence left his lips was he being forcibly shoved into the chamber, the door slamming him into darkness.

Laura quickly grabbed the lever of the chamber and pulled it down, taking a step back as she let the bells and whistles of the machine do its magic, momentarily relieved that her date wasn't going to go sour after all ... or so she thought. She wasn't too sure when the room became foggy with the smoke that began to seep from the machine, the stench of burnt rubber filling her nostrils.

The basement lights flickered as the transformation chamber groaned, sparked and puttered, backfiring into silence as components within it rattled to a complete halt. Moments later, Steve emerged from behind the door in a waft of smoke, disheveled and disoriented. His broken suspenders and flooded jeans inevitably replaced the three-piece suit his smoother alter ego once sported. Yup, it was Steve, alright. The notion was gut-wrenching to Laura as she looked on in disbelief.

Coughing as he swatted away the cloud, he straightened the glasses on his nose and immediately saw the rage swirling in Laura's eyes. Oh, boy.

"Laura, my pet ... we have a small ... _snafu_ ," he uttered cautiously as he inched towards her.

"What?" she snapped, disillusioned by the fact that the bane of her existence had once again found a way to ruin a perfectly good evening. _Go figure_.

"Uhh ... the machine's busted," he said, his statement of the obvious causing Laura's eyes to viciously narrow and she felt like choking the life out of him.

 _Well, duh!_ she thought. Nothing said that better than the fact that this nerdy abomination standing before her hadn't emerged as Stefan! But Steve was a big fan of the silver lining and so he offered his best attempt at cheering her up, which, unfortunately for him, didn't add up to much. "But! The night's still young! ... So whaddya say we get back to those ... _lip push-ups_?" And he puckered his lips dramatically and leaned into her in hopes she'd accidentally trip into his lips. He knew better but it was a worth a shot.

"...No," she pined in vain. It uttered from her lips pitifully, like a mouse coveting the most luxurious piece of lost cheese. Suddenly shrouded in a sense of disgust and disappointment, the word echoed again in an eruption of resentment, "NO!" She spun and stormed off towards the lift, desperately hurrying for the exit out of this nightmare.

"L-Laura, wait! What's the matter? Why are you leaving? I know things look grim right now but we can work this out!" Steve scurried quickly behind her just as desperately, eager to hold onto the last shreds of hope that she could somehow overlook his shortcomings this one time. After literally transforming from Prince Charming to Kermit the Frog, it was a very ambitious urging.

"I can't talk now, Steve..." Laura deflated in despair, utterly heartbroken that her dream come true had just been a silly fantasy after all. It was as if any frustration she had left instantly drained from her being as she looked down from the lift one final time, hoping by some miracle that her mind was just playing tricks on her.

And once again, her efforts to convince herself otherwise were futile. No Stefan. Only Steve. _Always_ Steve - begging and pleading without relent - fervently honoring his position as her resident pest. It was if they were tied in life by some weird spiritual vex that made it impossible for her to escape him and that thought alone was enough to make her want to gag.

"I must be cursed," she mused dejectedly once the lift was level with the door, her gaze wistful and pensive as she stared off into space, as if to mourn a hopeless and tragic romance. "I finally find the perfect guy - handsome, cool, and caring ... and what does he do? ... He leaves me."

...Just like she always left Steve flapping in the wind without much thought to his feelings, which seemed as meaningful to her as the lint beneath her toenails. His helpless pleads predictably fell on deaf ears as he watched her disappear and shut the basement door behind her, shunning him along with his ambitious endeavor to finally win her heart in the process.

* * *

It was just one of many memories of his lady love that had weighed on his lonely-hearted mind lately, serving as a palette of murky motivation for his latest experiment. He'd been engaged in a constant tug-of-war with his conscience regarding the nature of his _confidential_ project for the past couple of weeks and he found that it all came down to one question that required a hypothesis: was love worth a lifetime of denial?

Boy, it was a doozy considering Steve couldn't imagine his life any other way, even if it were to never involve Laura Winslow's willingness to love him back. But lately, it was starting to feel like a long shot and he couldn't help shaking the fear that maybe his heart wasn't as pure as it was foolish.

That night he got to pose as Stefan Urquelle, for instance, and step into shoes of her personal Knight in Shining Armor - it had been just one of many times in his adolescence that involved him stepping completely outside of himself just so that he could somehow satisfy her and he couldn't even seem to do _that_ right.

Despite literally going through the transformation she'd begged him to make, Laura never even seemed to acknowledge his efforts. In fact, after cloning and splitting from his alter ego altogether just to make her happy, he still managed to stay in the background, subtly ignored while forced to observe the blooming romance he ached for, all the while forced to be subjected to a romance that felt more like an emotional wrestling match than a relationship. Steve was usually optimistic enough to brush aside any self-doubt that managed to bother him but he was finding it harder to ignore the older he got.

As an aspiring scientist, most of his experiments genuinely started out as a dose of healthy, challenging curiosity that eventually end up budding out of control. That was probably why he had been especially mindful of keeping this one on the down-low in fears of accidentally unleashing the substance into the wrong hands. He figured the safest place to finish it would be in Eddie's room in the attic, where he had no fear of Eddie finding out since he had every intention on telling his best bud anyway - he had to tell _somebody_ ; the secret was eating him up inside!

Seated in a chair by his desk, he held a flask of the remaining elixir he'd created and had just finished pouring a beaker of the yellow compound to the liquid and after a quick swirl to mix the chemicals together, he gently placed a lid on top of flask. Grabbing a marker from the pocket-protector in his lab coat, he scribbled on label as he merrily bounced and swayed along to one of his favorite Polka smashes as it chirped from the radio.

Needless to say, overzealous accordions were never welcomed on any of the Winslows' stereos and so it was no surprise that Steve's boogie was short-lived as Eddie entered the room and bee-lined straight to the off switch. "Not today, Steve. You remember the rules, don't you? Those types of hellish sounds are the last thing I need before a big date," he said between clenched teeth, rolling his eyes as he headed for his closet to begin picking through his wardrobe.

Steve was, indeed, privy to the rules: no Polka while the Ed-man was present - yes-yes, he knew. He conceded to that law humbly as just retreated with an apologetic shrug before continuing to scribble on the small tube. That was when he began to hum the Polka song instead, returning to his bouncy wiggles in the chair. All Eddie could do was face-palm but otherwise paid the nerd no further attention as he kicked out a pair of shoes from under his bed.

Steve, in the meantime, became more and more fidgety and hummed a little louder as he rocked against the back legs of the chair and feigned deep concentration, occasionally peeking out of the corners of his horn-rimmed glasses at Eddie in hopes that his "silence" was subtle enough to evoke curiosity. He just felt much better about spilling what he was up to if he was asked about it first and so his efforts to appear inconspicuous couldn't be more obvious. And it always seemed to work when he was persistent so despite Eddie actively trying to ignore him, he eventually cracked.

"All right-all right-all right!" Eddie finally surrendered with a frustrated flail of his arms, spinning towards the nerd and impatiently giving him his attention. "What is it, Steve? And it better not be hazardous because my room is not a crash dummy site!" He'd never admit it but he had been a _little_ curious - the nerd was usually bursting to tell him what crazy experiment he had up his sleeve but if he knew he'd eventually regret ever asking; he always did.

Succeeding in his plan to get Eddie's attention, Steve exploded with a sudden perk of energy as he hopped to his feet like a Jack-in-the-Box and dramatically presented the flask to Eddie. " _This_! ... My friend, is my new invention - a spin-off-slash-counter-agent to my 'Woo Woo Juice'," he rambled, completely relieved that he could finally get this God-forsaken secret off his chest. Maybe Eddie could actually provide some insight on what he could do next.

Eddie was initially unimpressed since this whole thing sounded familiar but he decided to humor Steve anyway since it'd kill time while he got ready for his date. He turned into the closet and continued digging through it, "'Woo Woo Juice'? You mean that stuff that made Laura fall in love with you a while ago?" he asked over his shoulder as he tossed a shirt and a tie onto his bed from the closet.

"One in the same!" Steve confirmed as he held the flask eye-level and examined the color and consistency of it, honestly not sure whether to be excited or terrified of his new invention.

Eddie, of course, didn't see anything new about this scenario. "Oh, Good Lord, Steve, _let it goooo_ ," he groaned in irritation. It was as if he'd grown tired of hearing the same song playing over and over in his head and desperately wanted to change the tune.

"What do you mean?" Leave it to Steve to act like this wasn't the same problem he'd had ten years ago - won't the boy ever learn?

Eddie attempted to paint a clearer picture even though he knew it would probably go in one ear and out the other - it definitely wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation after all. "I mean, _c'mon_ man, I know she kissed you and all but she's never given you the time of day, what makes you think she'll start now? Besides, you're both in relationships - Laura's in love with Stefan if you haven't noticed." And just to solidify his argument, he did an exaggerated impression of his sister with a goofy high-pitched voice: " 'Oh, Stefaaaaan is just _sooooo smoooooth_.' 'Oh, Stefaaaaan is just _sooooo fiiiiiiiinnne_.' 'Oh, Stefaaaaan is _sooooo sweeeet_ ; don't you just wanna dip him in frosting?'"

"Yeah-yeah, I get the point!" Steve snapped, clearly green with envy by the accuracy of that impression. It was gag-worthy and he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Eddie just shrugged, hoping he'd hit enough of a nerve to get the nerd unattached but he doubted it. Grabbing the shirt off the bed, he began to shrug it on over his black tank and buttoned it up to his neck. "I think you should just move on with your life and forget about her, man; you'll feel a whole lot better."

"Well, that's just _the thing_ , Eddo," Steve whined, conflicted with pursuing his wildest fantasies or confronting the tailspin of reality. He began to pace as he considered the facts: "I think I'm starting to finally realize that it'll never happen between us. The cause is lookin' more lost than Jimmy Hoffa's underpants. I never thought I'd see the day when surrender was afoot." Just the thought of giving up stood against the very essence of what it meant to be an Urkel but he was starting to wonder whether or not he had a choice.

"Hard to imagine, isn't it?" Eddie said sarcastically as he began to loop up his tie around his neck. It was amazing to him how delusional he acted sometimes.

"Oh, Eddo, ever since that kiss, I'm a walking heartache!" Steve griped, becoming pensive as he found himself staring at the elixir as if it held the answers to all his woes. "I can't eat, I can barely sleep because I can only see her face when I close my eyes ... hearing our song gets the waterworks going like a shower nozzle. A big ol' platter of squid and swiss couldn't even do the trick."

 _Say what?_ Eddie's brows actually perked in surprise - that's how you knew Steve was depressed. A rejection had never been enough to stop raw fish and cheese from cheering him up. Slowly, but surely, Eddie became a little more intrigued and he listened as his nerdy friend carried on, "On top of all that ... Myra's on me like a squirrel in heat! She keeps leaving me notes, suggesting baby names," he said tersely, suddenly agitated by the idea of being forced to settle down so soon. No matter how many times he'd made it clear to Myra that he wasn't thinking that far ahead into their future together, she would always force the issue harder.

"At least she's thinking about you guys' future, right?" Eddie offered halfheartedly as he slipped on his shoes, surprised _anybody_ wanted to have children with an Urkel. Besides, he honestly didn't take Myra too seriously - the chick belonged in a padded room as far as he was concerned. The next revelation only proved that point.

"They filled a whole notebook!" Steve exclaimed hysterically, his eyes wide with anxiety as he continued to pace around his area of the small room, "She even made a list for the baby shower registry! I love kids but I'm not ready for them yet - I still use a Light Saber toothbrush!"

"Dang ..." There was little more Eddie could offer since delusion seemed to be an on-going theme within that weird circle of theirs but nonetheless, Steve _was_ his friend and so the sympathetic humoring continued. "Well. I mean, are you really surprised? Myra's crazy about you, Steve ... and let's just be keep it one-hundred: she's the _only_ one that is." He wasn't going to be too humorous; sometimes the man just needed to hear the truth. Ever so swagfully, Eddie then shrugged on a vest and turned to the mirror on the wall and began slicking sideburns down with his palms. "But she's also smart - I guess - and she's a honey. That _should_ be enough ... especially for you."

"Yeah, you're right," Steve conceded humbly as his shoulders sank, his eyes dejectedly averted to the floor. Hearing the truth had never been his problem. It was the accepting part that he hadn't quite mastered. "And I imagine it would be enough had I never met Laura. But she's got my heart in a vice grip, man! I mean - Myra's a great gal and she deserves to be with someone who will appreciate her in every way. I just don't wanna feel guilty about it or be burdened by it anymore." He lifted the compound eye-level again, presenting it as the answer to a most complex conundrum. "And I'm hoping this will help."

Eddie paused to take a long look at the liquid in the flask through the reflection in the mirror but he honestly didn't even know what it was looking at. The entire ordeal seemed fruitless and resorting to a love potion hadn't worked before; he had no idea why Steve thought it would work again. He sighed, full of skepticism. "Aww, c'mon, Steve, you sure that's the right thing to do?"

"Why not? Falling out of love with Laura seems to be my only option, after all," Steve mused matter-of-factly, quite sure of the mission at hand. He'd assumed Eddie would see the logic and reasoning behind this drastic course of action. It was, perhaps, the first time he was actually looking at the situation from an objective angle.

...Wait, _what?_ It was the first time all night Steve managed to earn Eddie's full attention and he slowly turned from the mirror to regard the nerd curiously. By the look of confusion that crossed his face, it was clear he'd missed the memo attached to the entire conversation. Had they been talking about the same thing? Because this stuff didn't sound like a love potion anymore. "... Come again? Did you say you're gonna fall _out_ of love with her?"

"Well, that's what this stuff does, Eddo!" Maybe he hadn't been clear enough. Steve proceeded to explain as he turned the tube to reveal the label. "I call it 'Achy Breaky Brew' - patent pending. It does the exact opposite of my 'Woo Woo Juice' - instead of causing Laura to fall in love with me, it's gonna help _me_ fall _out_ of love with _her_. Kinda like an infatuation antidote, only with less tissues and very little low-fat ice cream." Steve gave a sage nod, quite proud of the fact that his brew meant falling out of love didn't have to involve calorie-packed side effects. And that was about all he was proud of.

"Wow," Eddie said listlessly, not sure whether such an endeavor was a good or bad outcome to pursue now that his intentions were clear. The thought kinda made him uneasy when thinking about the possible effects - even though he could sympathize with Steve's logic, he couldn't imagine falling out of love with Greta. "Well ... Steve, why would you wanna do _that_?"

"Why, you just said so yourself! I have this wonderful girlfriend of four years that I have absolutely no interest in having a future with whatsoever and all I can think about is the most creative way to get shot down by Laura over and over again - I'm not getting _aaaaany_ younger, y'know," Steve whined, again reminded of high dosage of growing pains he'd received recently.

Becoming more incensed as the words left his lips, his delivery of facts became more dramatic by the second as he used the open space of the room as his Shakespearean stage, lifting the tube like Hamlet's skull. "And to top the cherry on the King-of-the-Pathetic Pie, I have to make way clear passages and surrender to the agony of watching my lady love fall deeply entangled with my own creation! No, siree, I don't see my life ending up amounting to much but an endless emotional wreck if can't unshackle my heart from Cupid's merciless cages. One sip of this and Laura Lee Winslow will _finally_ step down in my soul from Goddess ... to goatress!" Cue a thunderous flash of lightening and impish cackling.

"Huh. That's actually kinda brilliant, Steve. ... Creepy, questionable, and disturbing ... but brilliant." Eddie had to admit it the more he considered the power behind wielding such a substance, rubbing his chin in contemplation. In fact, it started to give him a few ideas of where he could utilize it and he found himself plotting a ransack in case Myrtle showed up again.

"Why, yes-yes, I even surprise myself sometimes," Steve remarked with feigned modesty. He did have a brilliant mind after all and his perfect solution seemed to be proof of that: "This way, I can move on with Myra and Laura can move forward with Stefan. _Everybody_ happy!"

"Hm. So you're saying ... using this 'Achy Breaky Brew' is gonna make you completely forget about Laura?"

"Yes, indeedy! Why, any trace of my romantic feelings for her, including any memories or fantasies associated with them, will be wiped clean. I can start anew like a freshly laundered pair of socks!" The more he said it out-loud, the more appealing the idea became to him and that was evident how his face brightened a little more with each revelation. Steve began to regard his invention as an idea at least worth testing, despite how hesitant he still was to try it.

"Those must be some _really_ filthy socks," Eddie retorted, only half-joking. "Memories and fantasies, too, huh?" Eddie became pensive as his curiosity burgeoned, knowing that if Steve finally let Laura go, he would probably distance himself from all of the Winslows, which would just be a breath of fresh air.

But everytime the urge to mislead Steve came about, he was always reminded of the many times the nerd had gotten him out of trouble, covered for him, or even saved his Dad's life. It was always the wall that kicked up the guilt and stopped him from pushing Steve out of his life for good. Besides, he knew the guy meant well and the least he could do after everything was steer him in the right direction.

With that in mind, he decided to actually be a friend to him in that moment. "... Uh, Steve ... you sure that's a good idea?" Eddie asked, pausing his motions of getting ready long enough to sit on his bed.

Steve seemed jarred by the sudden objection to what seemed to be, to him, a pretty flawless solution. Then why was he so hesitant to follow through? He had been from the beginning.

He took a seat on his own bed across from Eddie and frowned in deep thought as he considered everything. "Well, I don't see why not. I don't plan on having to use this more than once. That eliminates any danger that it would be used unethically and furthermore would mean that no one else would be subjected to any harsh side effects. When it's all said and done, I don't see any other way - I've been Laura-on-the-brain for so long, I'm surprised her old baby teeth aren't falling out of my nose." And that was just the truth. He had it so bad for her, he was sure there were grounds to be committed for it at this point.

"That's just when I mean, Steve - you've had it bad for her since kindergarten and you've been a thorn in her side ever since. If it were me ... I don't think I would wanna lose all those memories, even if they're heartbreaking." Eddie couldn't necessarily say he didn't know what Steve was going through.

He was sure Steve remembered the night they almost fell fifteen stories to their deaths on a flimsy balcony that gave way all because Steve and Waldo were trying to cheer him up with the Okey-Pokey. It was the same night Oneisha cheated on him and kicked him to the curb - he would never forget how heartbroken he had been. And judging from years as a third-party witness this twisted little love triangle, he could only imagine what Steve was going through as a fifteen-year rejectee of the same woman. Even so, the following statement he made seemed relevant: "Wouldn't you say those memories made you who you are today? And you always say you like yourself, so..."

Sparked by this insight, Steve suddenly froze in contemplation. "...Hmm! I've never thought of it like that! Now that you mention it ..." He slowly rose to his feet as an index finger shook in the air, acting as the firearm for his thoughts, which seemed to run through his brain like a set of algorithms. "Laura's been on my mind every day for ... 14 years, 7 months, 5 weeks, 3 days, 6 hours, 18 minutes, and 32 seconds! ... 33 ... 34 ... 35 ..." he recited robotically as the figures dialed in his head.

"Steve! You're obsessed, man," Eddie scoffed as he swatted the air, dismissing Steve's love-sick condition as a sad, sad spectacle.

"Hence the dilemma! Weren't you _listening_?" Steve reprimanded tersely before actively returning to his counting. "... 38 ... 39 ... 40 -"

"STEVE! I got it." Jeez, there was just no convincing this guy that none of this was really necessary. Shaking his head ruefully, Eddie simply rose from the bed in surrender and grabbed his jacket. As sympathetic as he had been, he quickly realized he'd rather be on his date right now.

"Jumpin' Jehoshaphat, Eddo ... that's a lot of memories! I could accidentally give myself amnesia!" If Steve was on the fence before, he felt himself slowly starting to climb off of it altogether. Eddie was right!

About eighty-five percent of his life had involved Laura in some way or another and he realized removing his love for her would be like completely reshaping his identity. While it wouldn't be the first time he'd attempted such a feat, he was suddenly unsure if he was ready to take that leap in such a way.

Transforming your DNA was one thing ... but transforming hopes, thoughts, and dreams? He could emerge a completely different person - and unlike the Transformation Chamber, the variables as to what kind of person he would be were out of his control. He was suddenly staring at the elixir as if it had been the final ingredient to a doomsday device and he scurried to place it back to the holder on his desk and slowly backed away from it.

Eddie, on the other hand, was being hit with another revelation: Steve giving himself amnesia might not be the worst tragedy. He knew his luck wasn't that good, though, but the dream was potent enough to induce an impish smirk. "Really? Heh ... on second thought, it might not be _that bad_ of an idea."

Buttoning up his jacket, he stepped to Steve long enough to give an encouraging pat on his shoulder. "And if ya do, please try to forget who I am and where my room is. Good luck, buddy." As randomly as the conversation started, Eddie made moves to end it as he swagger-walked to the door, clearly prepping himself for a night of smoke and mirrors.

"Hey, Eddo?"

Just before closing the door behind him, he peeked through when he heard Steve's voice, "Yeah?"

"Let's just keep this between us, okay?" Steve asked as he sank back into the chair by his desk once, finding himself even more lost than he was before. As grateful as he was for the insight, he couldn't say he was grateful for the responsibility that suddenly weight on his shoulders. This was supposed to be an easy solution! He sighed heavily as he deflated with discouragement.

"Hey. You're the scientist, loverboy." With a shrug and no further regard for the conversation, Eddie shut the door behind him and slipped out to his date, unintentionally leaving a thick cloud of chagrin looming over Steve.

...And that's when he caught Laura's picture in the corner of his eye, perched loyally in a frame on a shelf next to the flask holder, instantly captivated by her beautiful smile. The longer he tortured himself with the sight of her visage, the more his gut knotted as a tidal wave memories flooded to him. And he realized something.

As painful as her constant rejection had been, he had learned an important lesson from her about who he was every single time. It was as if this woman was molding and shaping his perspective in life - to the point where his love for her alone constructed the foundation of his morals.

His pensive gaze shifted between her picture and brew and he felt the heaviness of the decision he had to make weighing down on him. It was clear to him that the answer to his extremely complex problem still reached far beyond his grasp and all he could do was pine as he grabbed her picture from the shelf and settled it on his desk, where he could closely admire every line of her face, pretend her eyes were staring back at him, and feverishly wonder why she could never be his.

"Oh, Laura ..." he murmured pitifully to the frame, completely disheartened as he came to the conclusion that this experiment might be a bust after all. "What do I have to do to make you love me?"

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 6..._


	6. Puzzle Pieces

_**CHAPTER 6: Puzzle Pieces**_

 _Summary: Laura faces an emotional rollercoaster as finally gathers the courage to call Stefan after weeks of dodging him._

* * *

"Stefan?" Laura's voice was meek and contrite, her emotions caught in a rift of anxiety as Stefan answered her call. She nervously fidgeted with the frame of her favorite picture of him as she cradled it in her lap as she sat cross-legged on her bed, the phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder. Her gaze swept over the features of his handsome face, secretly hoping the picture was enough to anchor her heart where it belonged. And she recognized the swoony wave of light-headedness flush over her as she stared at his portrait, still very much affected by his gorgeousness.

"Laura," he answered calmly but curtly, succinct enough to make Laura cringe instantly. _Ouch_. Stefan never answered the phone with such apathy; one of the best parts about talking to him was the fact that he always had a new and creative pet-name for her when he answered.

It was very subtle, but Laura could easily detect the annoyance in his voice since she knew it was extremely difficult to anger him; he always seemed so unbothered by everything. He always embodied the "too cool for school" moniker down to a tee. Well, not this time. What sucked the most was that she'd never been the object of his discomfort or disapproval until now - she could only imagine how disappointed he must be and that made her hate herself.

She'd been avoiding this conversation for weeks, seemingly losing all sense of self in the process as she'd recently taken notice of the questionable blunders of her character. First she'd lost her mother's expensive diamond earring after wearing them without asking. Then she'd disappointed her father by going to the Crave Club with next to nothing on when he strictly forbade her from wearing a dress that left little to the imagination.

Worst of all, those hiccups of judgment weren't even what disturbed her the most about her recent behavior. Even as she had her boyfriend on the phone in that very moment as a significant distraction, it was hard to ignore the guilt that still stirred within her for forgetting Steve's birthday ... and now the sourness that resulted in realizing she _actually_ felt jealous after seeing him kissing Myra.

Any negative feelings she'd ever felt towards Myra had never dug deeper than annoyance towards her wide-eyed enthusiasm. But there was a burgeoning resentment for the girl that she couldn't help but acknowledge. And not necessarily because she was as crazy as catnip or even because she was Steve's girlfriend ... but because it really made her skin crawl to even entertain the idea that Myra had been right about a lot of things all this time.

For as long as she could remember, try as he might, Steve Urkel had never successfully evoked anything but more than rueful pity out of her in his blind attempts to win her over. Yet, ever since she'd been awakened to the fact that there was much more to her nerdy friend than what he projected on the surface, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration for certain qualities in him that she'd always subconsciously known but never noticed or acknowledged. And not only had she been neglecting Stefan as a result, she was also neglecting one of the only people she knew would have her back in a tight squeeze - Steve always had and she had to admit that whether she wanted to or not. It didn't make her seem like a very good friend at all.

She couldn't help but sigh dolefully and wish she could take the last month of her life back. Now thinking back on it, she wished she'd never gotten the idea to have the auction in the first place - that's where she could always trace back to the beginning of her perpetual confusion.

In that very moment, though ... none of that really mattered. All she knew now was that she owed her man a long overdue apology and she knew she wouldn't feel anything like herself again until she did just that. She probably could have avoided a lot of her recent mistakes if she'd just done so a while ago. She already felt like her friendship with Steve was on shaky ground and the compounding possibility of losing Stefan seemed unbearable. "Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?" she asked, cautious yet hopeful that he hadn't completely given up on her.

"A minute or two..." Stefan said, keeping his delivery monotone even though he secretly fist-pumped the air in triumph. While he was still slightly upset with her, and his apparent nonchalance showed it, he was really doing back flips in his mind - the last thing he had wanted to do was pull a Steve and crawl through her bedroom window just to get ahold of her but she'd almost pushed him to that. He was relieved that she'd finally called him back but he had already decided that he wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily because waiting to see if he still had a girlfriend had been absolutely agonizing.

And Laura knew just by his tone that she had really messed up. There had been times when they'd argued and Stefan still wouldn't dare deprive her of the reminder that he was still in love with her. But to feel like she was suddenly unworthy of his romantic flowerings made her feel vulnerable and she was eager to find her safety net again...even as she actively ignored thoughts of missing Steve too in the back of her mind, which didn't help her resounding guilt at any capacity. "Stefan, I know we haven't had a chance to talk about it, but -"

"Because you haven't returned any of my calls," he interjected firmly before she could make any excuse to the contrary, making it as clear as he could that he was expecting answers.

"Just hear me out, okay? This won't take long," she pleaded, becoming more and more uneasy by the sense of deprivation he was inflicting upon her. She couldn't help but hug his portrait in hopes doing so would keep her grounded.

"... Okay. I'm listening," he finally softened, partly because she'd asked him to and partly because just hearing her voice had always been enough to turn him into putty between her fingertips. He almost swelled with relief a little prematurely - it was rather difficult to stay mad at her, even though he had every right to be.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry about how I've been acting. I don't know what's come over me lately. You were really looking forward to seeing me and I know what I did on our date that night wasn't fair ..." she said contritely, even though another part of her cringed at the knot of uncertainty that came with realizing what a precarious position she'd put them both in.

"Y'know ... unfair is an understatement. We hardly have time to see each other as it is. And then I can't understand why you would ignore me for weeks after nearly ..." Gosh, how could he put it _? 'Jumping my bones'_ was the first phrase that came to mind but he balked since he still hadn't fully recovered from the abruptness of it all. "... _you know_." Yes, she did know. And she wanted to claw her eyes out right then and there.

"I wanted us to be alone just as much as you did, if you couldn't tell. I've just been really stressed out and ... I let it get the best of me. I guess when you stopped me, I was really embarrassed. Actually I still am; I can't believe I did that." And she really couldn't. The more she thought about how far she almost went - how far she _wanted_ to go just to escape her confusion - the more she wanted to slap herself against the forehead but settled for a face-palm instead, her veins hot with disdain for herself.

But it shouldn't have been surprising to her that her Prince in Shining Armor was always there to save her from herself. Instead of rolling into a lecture about their "agreement" like she expected him to, his next statement had her drifting back to cloud nine as quickly as she'd fallen off of it. "... It's okay, Laura. There's no reason to be embarrassed," he gently insisted, the tension in his voice gradually lifting and allowing the amorous velvet she loved so much to return: "Believe me, I want you just as much, baby girl."

It was as if she'd almost forgotten how effortlessly she could be entranced by his spell over the weeks of being Stefan-deprived. She melted right there on the bed, slithering down the headboard until she was a mess of hypnotized hormones on her pillow, his picture embraced tightly against her chest as the cheesiest school-girl grin sprung to her lips. "Tee-hee...!" she chirped in a high-pitched giggle, beguiled by his confession. And just like that, she was propelled right back into a space where she couldn't even remember why she'd avoided talking to him in the first place.

And a grin just as big took over the concerned scold Stefan had been mugging the entire conversation and he unraveled from his anxiety completely. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could stay mad at her, even if he wanted to.

He was certainly tempted considering how much worrying he'd done over the past few weeks, but hearing the remorse and pleading in her voice, not to mention the beautiful bells of her laugh, was just as powerful a spell on him as his Stefan-isms were on her - the woman had a tendency to unintentionally make a man abandon all his dignity. He was almost certain that if they lived in ancient times, the Legend of Troy would have nothing on the wars Laura Winslow could start. And as always, he was compelled to offer his reassurance that he'd never stepped out of his devotion to her. "I don't ever want you think otherwise, I just - I mean, I didn't want us to -"

"- Do anything we might regret," she interjected before he could divulge the words he couldn't seem to find, fearful that the moment of relief that washed over her would dissipate prematurely. "You don't have to explain yourself. You were right. I miss you and I'm really, really sorry for being so stupid. Please forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you, Laura. And I miss you, too. I don't think there's ever a moment you're not on my mind." There was no doubting that Stefan was not only the most suave men she'd ever met, he was also one of the most forgiving. It had been easier than she thought it would be to get back on his good side ... somehow, she didn't even consider how scary the parallels really were between him and Steve.

Instead, a familiar love-high euphoria settled over her in gentle waves of relief, washing away the doubts that had plagued every second leading up to this call and she finally felt her tension deflate and suggested coyly, "I think we should do something about that."

Stefan, in similar fashion, became more than satisfied that the storm clouds had finally cleared between them and his anxiety focused on seeing her as soon as possible. In light of his own relief, painted with an easy-going smile, he was ignorant of the bomb he was about to drop on her. "I certainly hope so because I'm going to Italy tomorrow for a two-week shoot. I'd like to see you before then if that's okay."

"Say _what-_?!" she squawked incredulously before her brain even had time to register the implications. You mean to tell her that she'd wasted several unnecessary weeks avoiding him, finally made up with him, and now had to go another _two weeks_ without him?! "Wha-what..?" she said in a hushed stutter as the euphoria drained right out of her. Fate seemed to prove at every ticking turn that she was cursed, as she'd once told Steve. She popped upright on her bed and slumped over in disbelief as she loosened her grip on the picture frame.

Stefan could instantly feel her disappointment radiating through the receiver and even though deep down he didn't feel like he owed her an explanation, he hated the idea of making her feel anything but happy, even though his excuse would certainly hold up in a court of law. "I'm sorry; you wouldn't call me back so I didn't have a chance to tell you."

And that's the piece of truth that sucked the most. It was her own fault she'd be forced through two more weeks of figuring out a way of ignoring her inner conflict. It was so easy to become lost in Stefan and as selfish as it was, it was certainly one of the reasons she welcomed him as a distraction.

...It was in light of that frightening thought that she was thrust even deeper into confusion. Was that all Stefan had become at this point? A _distraction_ from the mirror that reality was suddenly forcing her to face? She'd said herself that it didn't seem real sometimes. That the notion it was too good to be true always tickled the recesses of her mind and that their moments together were always few and far between.

She instantly missed those few seconds she got to enjoy a carefree existence and longed for it. She sighed heavily, discordant as she was once again faced with an internal evaluation of her character and feverishly attempted to suppress the doubts that had been kicked right back up to the surface.

Of course, none of this registered in her voice. In fact, she tried her best to convince him of the contrary, feigning delight and offering reassurance with a shaky smile, "I know, babe, it's not your fault. It's great, actually - I'm really proud of you." Lowering her eyes to Stefan's portrait in her hand, she was suddenly very aware that not even counting on him as a distraction was working to dissolve the emotional puzzle that riddled her.

But it certainly wouldn't keep her from trying, especially since she would have to fare even longer without him! "I guess that means we gotta make up for lost times pretty quickly. Wanna come over right now?"

"Don't have to tell me twice, beautiful," Stefan replied, eager to oblige her request ... eager to a fault since it meant he would remain oblivious of just how 'stressed' she'd been and, probably, still was. "I'll be over in a half-hour."

"Okay. See ya soon," Laura responded, almost formally, before scrambling to lower the receiver from her ear and press her thumb to the switch-hook, inadvertently cutting off Stefan mid-sentence in her anxious rush to get ahold of Max and punch her number into the dials.

"I love -" he tried to say, only to be silenced by an abrupt c _lick_ on the line, followed by the prolonged groan of the dial tone. "... you." Blink. Pulling the receiver from his ear to give it the side-eye, Stefan tried to shake the instinctive twitch of suspicion that something still wasn't right. Instead of dwelling on his doubts, he made moves to see her for the first time in weeks and that anticipation always overshadowed any uncertainty ... all he could do was hope this time would pan out a lot smoother than the last time.

Meanwhile, Laura's best friend had always been the backup plan and it was looking as though she needed to call in the reserves. As anxious as she was now that Stefan was on his way, she knew that if she went into the weekend without a plan of action, not only would she be forced to deal with hunting for another distraction, but also the depression that came with knowing her man was in a whole different country without her, having the fun she'd never get to have by his side in their current situation and she certainly didn't waste any time risking exposure.

Max had always been the one to cheer her up whenever Stefan went away and she didn't suspect it to be any different this time. After a few rings, the familiar voice of her bestie resonated through the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, girl."

"Hey Laura - just who I wanted to talk to! What are you doing this weekend?" Max sounded thrilled, as if the honor of her call were pure serendipity at work.

Laura had resisted the urge to vent her frustrations to Max about everything that had gone down since the auction. As much as she wanted to whine that Stefan was leaving her yet again, she knew doing so would only unleash a dam to more frightening confessions she wasn't sure Max was ready to receive at this point. Besides, the whole damn thing was incredibly embarrassing - she'd just die if her best friend laughed in her face in light of her true feelings.

So, sucking up the disappointment of it all, she just sighed in surrender. "Apparently nothing. That's what I called about actually. I think I'm looking to get into something fun."

"I got just the thing," Max replied mischievously, prompting a smirk in Laura - Max always had something up her sleeve and she was grateful to have a best friend that always came through. "Tim invited us to the Delta house for a party tomorrow night. Wanna go?"

...That is, until it was revealed the plans were fogged in suspicion. Laura's brows furrowed as she recalled an unpleasant rumor or two about that fraternity. "Delta House? You mean Delta Tau Sigma? You wanna go to a party there?"

"Why not?" Max asked sorely and Laura could almost feel her eyes rolling. After all, Laura wasn't known for being the most easy-going girl when it came to parties. In fact, it annoyed Max sometimes to know that Laura would find a way to complain about or crash the fun at some point.

"Word in my sorority is that those guys are pretty wild, y'know," Laura warned, ever vigilant in her quest to remain cautious with every step in her recreational life ... it was the natural repercussion of being the daughter of a cop; she really couldn't help it sometimes.

"C'mon, Laura, lighten up. We're adults now, I think we can handle it," Max insisted, a smile in her voice since she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laura was the last one to worry about when it came to being influenced by anyone 'wild'.

Deep down, Laura knew this too. Despite her recent deviations in character, she had always been incredibly guilty after attempting to step outside of herself and knew any attempt to contrary would probably be unsuccessful anyway. "...You're right. I suppose I have to grow up sometime. Besides, as long as I get to unwind, I'm down."

"It's not that big a deal; we're gonna have a great time."

At the end of the day, she was more concerned about relaxing more than anything, whether that mean she's distracted or not. "Believe me, I'm counting on it."

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 7..._


	7. Antidotes & Anecdotes

_**CHAPTER 7: Antidotes & **_**_Anecdotes_**

 _Summary: Laura sees Stefan off to Italy anticipating a weekend of diversions. Meanwhile, Steve makes a tiny blunder on his way to the lab and finds the epiphany he needs._

* * *

"Oh!...Stefan, Laura-!" cried Steve abashedly, startled by the unexpected sight of his dream girl and his Frankensteined counterpart engaged in a passionate lip-lock on the couch in the living room, quickly retreating back behind the kitchen door as he reddened with embarrassment ... and perhaps a little contempt, unbeknownst to the two lovers as they blissfully took advantage of the moments lost over the last few weeks.

By the time Laura came up for air, she could have guessed they'd been necking for the last couple of hours since any perception of time seemed to evaporate whenever he was around. The moment her lips stopped touching his, the sour knot in her stomach returned, somehow overpowering his seductive spell that usually left her dizzied in the wake of his kisses.

But now, all she could think about was the bewilderment that had subliminally bombarded her like stones over the last month. It was more of the awareness that she could no longer effectively dodge those stones that disturbed her the most. Ignoring it was the only solution she could fish out of her confusion but she knew the tactic was rapidly melting away like ice cream on a hot sidewalk.

At least he was with her again to temporarily chase away her anxiety, even if only for the last couple of hours he afforded her before he had to go to the airport. After that? ...She really didn't want to think about the different ways she was sure she would have to cope without him. But at least she wasn't going to be bored this weekend.

"Nnh...I wish I were going to Italy with you. It's gonna be so much fun," she said halfheartedly in surrender, her deep disappointment disguised as candid wistfulness. In reality, she almost stooped to plotting a way to keep him there, like sabotage his plane tickets, which she knew were right in the pocket of his slacks. And she was still tempted, but after ignoring him for this long, she knew she'd look like a walking contradiction.

"Modeling can be such a grind," Stefan replied with indifference, as if having a public, international career at his age wasn't a big deal. Maybe it wasn't to him since he'd been a shoe-in to the industry from the beginning, but to Laura ... it just meant he got to enjoy all the glamorous perks without her.

"Yeah. Well, buying me an expensive present might make you feel better." Well ... she got to enjoy _some_ perks and it was a good time to take advantage of it.

"And which designer would you like? There's Armani, Gucci, Dolce Gabanna?" he asked, the designer names counted off his fingers, as if he was a genie she'd summoned from a magic lamp ... which, ironically, wasn't too far from the truth.

"...Yes, please!" she perked with a convincing grin before he grabbed her hands and proceeded to stand from the couch, turning to face her and becoming satisfied that the tension between them seemed to have been lifted. What Stefan didn't know was that her pretty smile was just a mask for her inner defeat.

"Now, what about you, my pretty portobella? Any sweet plans for the weekend?" he asked, making moves to put his coat on.

"Just some fraternity party Max and I are going to. Don't worry, we won't get too crazy," she said candidly with a dismissive swat of her hand, expecting him to be suspicious considering their recent falling out ... only to be blindsided as his shoulders shook with a skeptical snicker. Her brow quirked dubiously. "What's so funny?"

"You? Getting crazy?" It was Stefan's turn to look dubious, sizing her up as he chuckled again, this time a little louder, to clearly convey that he was completely unconvinced. Which was interesting to him considering her recent behavior but despite her lapse in judgment, he'd wrote the incident off as just that: a lapse in judgment. Try as she might, the real Laura Winslow couldn't 'get crazy' if her life depended on it. Everybody knew that.

"Well, what's that supposed to mean?" Laura asked, slightly irritated by not only his amusement at her expense, but the fact that her reputation as a 'goody-two-shoes' had once again come full circle to smack her in the face.

Stefan just smirked as they walked together towards the door, tickled by her alleged claim of wild-woman status. "Laura, you may be a lot of things: beautiful, kind, funny, but crazy? _C'mon_ now." And by the look of surrender in her expression, his assessment was confirmed: even _she_ knew it was true! He recalled the last house party they went to together. The presence of cigarettes, alcohol and the slow-grind dance circle in the living room - despite it all being relatively benign, it still made her so nervous, they stayed on the balcony the entire time. Not that he had been complaining because it meant for a pretty intense make-out session.

"What are you talkin' about?" Of course, she would try to fruitlessly combat his claim - nobody wanted to go down in history as an uptight Debbie-downer, especially now that the urge for distractions had become a zone she wanted to explore a little deeper lately. "When I let loose, I can get pretty wild."

He could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn't even believe herself and so he had to tease her. "Heh, Laura you're idea of wild at a party is double-dippin' your potato chips."

"Yeah? Well, I'm also taking this tape back to the video store and I have _no_ intention of rewinding it," she rebutted playfully as she grabbed said video tape waved it defiantly.

" _Ooo_ , stop the madness," Stefan teased, inadvertently daring her to prove him wrong. Because their banter was light-hearted, he didn't notice the determined narrow of her eyes that indicated her intentions to seriously take him up on that dare. As a result, he remained blissfully unaware that this departure wouldn't be anything like the many others they'd endured.

To him, the trip was routine and nothing they couldn't get through. To her, it felt like he was somehow slipping from her grasp. The worst part was that she couldn't distinguish whether or not she was responsible for it. "I'll call you tomorrow morning from Rome," he said as he opened the front door and stepped across the threshold, that heavy feeling in Laura's gut settling deeper into her core the closer he got to finally leaving her ... _again_.

"Hmph. I should just be getting back from the party by then," Laura teased defiantly, if only to convince herself that her anxiety of the past few weeks had not even been worth it and that fun of any kind was simply long-overdue, especially if she had to fare even longer without him.

"The party ... heh heh." Stefan snickered away her claims a final time and he grinned with an incredulous shake of his head. Knowing his skepticism was justified, all she could do was flash a somber smile as he pivoted to make his exit. He'd been so amused, he somehow forgot to kiss her goodbye. Laura became very aware of that fact as a cold sense of deprivation rattled her being the moment he turned his back. Her shoulders sunk in melancholy.

Closing the door behind him, safe from his scrutiny, she was momentarily frozen in thought as her fingers fidgeted with the door knob. Watching his figure grow smaller through the curtain as he walked away from the house, she was vexed with a mess of mixed emotions - both satisfied and perturbed by the notion that he was still ignorant of her profound inner-turbulence.

* * *

 _ **MEANWHILE...**_

The kitchen door swung on its hinges as Steve quickly backed away from it, unable to make out the conversation that ensued between the lovers in the living room, their muffled voices incoherent through the barrier.

Of course he was curious. But he resisted the urge to flatten against the door in a mad attempt to eavesdrop, dragging himself away in discouragement instead and he gave the door a few disheartened glares.

The young scientist had been just as bewildered by his choices lately, the product of his confusion tucked safely in the box of lab supplies he cradled carefully in his arms. With an embittered twist of his mouth, he removed a sealed glass beaker of Achy-Breaky Brew from it and scrutinized the cloudy, yellow substance through the panes of his large glasses pensively.

He'd been in a back and forth debate with himself about the ethical ramifications, possible side-effects, and long-term consequences of using the brew ever since Eddie planted the implications in his head.

Where he'd been almost sure before, his glaring conscience had him stalling himself with empty excuses which led him to constantly reworking the formula. He figured if he worked on any possible kinks, it would provoke some courage to proceed. It was coming down to the wire and he knew he had to make a decision soon before either of the women in his life got wind of his plan.

He'd wanted to get the sample of the compound back to the lab to see if he could make modifications or even craft an antidote in case anything went wrong, only to stumble onto the most infuriating of sights on his way to the front door. Sure, he'd watched Laura swap spit with Stefan and others for years and even with having his own girlfriend, it never got any easier stomach. In fact, the sight was more gut-wrenching than usual.

Placing the beaker back into the box, he gave the door to the living room a final glance - caught between an impulse and a hard place. He resisted the urge to rain on their make out party with any attention-grabbing antic he could come up with but balked at the disheartening realization that doing so would only delay his inevitable defeat as it always did. Even though Stefan was - in essence - just a polished version of himself, he knew when it came to Laura, he could never compete. His shoulders sank with a heavy sigh as he made his way towards the back door and into the yard, opting to avoid a brush with disappointment; he'd had enough for one day.

"Oh. It's you," came a dry voice from behind a large hedge by the fence, the husky, jump-suited frame of the Winslow patriarch appearing as he circled the bush with a pair of hedge trimmers. He made a mental note to brace himself for whatever disaster Steve had brought with him as his gaze momentarily lowered to the box in his possession.

"Hiya, Big Guy! What are you up to?" Steve asked once he spotted his favorite Pop Cop, bee-lining over to him purely out of an act of habit - he never passed up an opportunity to check in with his mentor, no matter how busy either of them were.

Knowing this better than anybody, Carl shook his head dismally to himself. He immediately returned to the task at hand and continued snipping at uneven branches and leaves of the bush. "Trimming the bushes. It's my day off so I'm getting some work done around the yard - _alone_. Don't even think about asking to help," he said firmly, shooting Steve a glare of warning. He knew if he showed the slightest interest in whatever the nerd was up to, he'd never hear the end of it. And quite frankly, he just wanted the exchange to go by as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't going to," Steve replied matter-of-factly to Carl's pleasant surprise, which brought about a brief smirk of relief ... relief that was short-lived, as it always was in an Urkel's presence. "I'm in the middle of a very import - WHHH-AAA-OOOOOAAAA!" Steve shrieked as the toe of his shoe got caught a toolbox sitting in the grass - that he'd somehow missed even though it was directly in his path - and violently stumbled forward.

And before he knew it, Carl was viciously assaulted by flying objects as they were catapulted from the box and arched through the air in his direction. He yelped in pain as beakers, rulers, vials and microscope parts seemed to swarm him at once, tensing with each blow as they shower-slapped at him from head to toe before crashing to the ground in a disheveled pile at his feet.

After he found his footing, Steve couldn't do much but helplessly look on, flinching and wincing at the storm of science objects before the calamity finally calmed. "... Did I do that?"

Frozen in his fury, it took several tense seconds for Carl to recover enough to realize that not only was he now sure he'll look like a walking bruise the next day, but that he was now soaked - and probably irradiated - with whatever chemicals were in those beakers! Exasperated, his chin and hands lifted to the heavens in surrender, calmly exclaiming to God, "... I'm never taking a day off again. Not with an Urkel here. What's the point, Lord?!"

Steve gave the inside of the box a double-take when he realized he'd emptied the whole thing! He took note that the most important beaker was now on the ground ... and empty! Putting two and two together, he then proceeded to the swiftly shift his gaze between the box and Carl, who was now dripping with his experiment. Concern and anxiety grew in his eyes by the second. "Ohhh, _noooo_... ohhh, I'm _sooooo_ sorry, Big Guy! I was afraid this would happen!"

Livid, Carl had the mind to immediately pursue Steve and let the choking begin. But as always, if it wasn't his conscience that prevented him from killing the nerd, it was something else ... like the realization that the chemicals really reeked something fierce. The foul stench filled his nostrils, souring his face as he stopped dead in his tracks. "Ugh - what is this you spilled on me, Steve? I smell like ..." He lifted an arm to his nose and then the other for a few quick sniffs. Unable to pinpoint what it smelled like exactly, he could only describe the unpleasant odor as: "... fermented fish soaked in musky tears! Start talkin'!"

Sounded pretty accurate to Steve and he cringed with regret, knowing the odor meant that the effects had been immediate. "Okay, okay!" he surrendered as he approached Carl cautiously, clutching the box in front of him as if it'd garner some protection against his rage.

Steve really had been trying to avoid having to explain this to anyone, especially Carl since he knew it was a no-no to do experiments in the house, and so he hoped a scientific approach to the explanation would sound less ... desperate. It was better than lying, which wasn't an acceptable alternative. "It's completely harmless, I assure you! ...Sort of. See, I synthesized a serum that targets and neutralizes the oxytocin released in the brain when -"

" _English!_ " Carl roared, frustrated at the scientific jargon that didn't take him any closer to an explanation. Taking a firm step towards Steve, he viciously tried to snatch the box away but instead of yanking it from his grip, it ripped into two pieces.

"My, you're miffed!" Flinching, Steve retreated and stiffened with a backpedal as he tossed the torn box aside, both hands extending to create the safety barrier the cardboard no longer could. "Unravel your shorts before you cut off circulation!" he remarked, only to get a foreboding glare in return and it was warning enough to let him know he should probably get to the point. "It's an anti-love potion I call Achy-Breaky Brew ... or, at least it will be when it's finished. The person who takes it instantly loses the hots for their sunshine."

" _Anti_ -love potion?" Carl speculated, a baffled look riddling his expression, only to be captured by the horror of the implications. "What are you saying?! That I'm gonna fall out of love with Harriette?"

"You're _supposed_ to," Steve clarified casually, an index finger wiggling in the air as he objectively pointed out the details. "That's what it's supposed to be when it's ingested. Y'see - I was just on my way to conduct a few tests but this trial is incomplete! It's supposed to be taken _orally_ but it has reverse effects when it's airborne. Instead of it working on you, it'll work on whoever's into your Big Guy bod! In your case - _Mrs._ Big Guy." Suddenly forgetting that his life was in danger, Steve couldn't help but grin, poking his chest out with pride. Despite the frightening effects of the potion, he was always impressed with himself when he found methods of achieving what seemed like the impossible.

Carl, on the other hand, was far from impressed. Steve humbled up immediately when he saw the bigger man start to slowly stalk him; for every step Carl took forward, Steve hopped backward in submission. "So ... you're saying that my wife - the woman I've been married to and in love with for over twenty years -" he growled, straining to contain the volcano Steve tended to rile in him, "- is gonna hate me just because you and your clumsy genetics weren't born to WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE?!" he hollered and flailed in outrage, gaining up on the nerd until they were nose-to-nose.

"Whuuh-ohh.." Steve squeaked softly as he _slowly_ stuck a foot behind him and took a long, healthy step to create a safe distance away from the huffing pile of rage. Lucky for him, he was now within a meter of the gate - all it took was a mad sprint if need be. " _Hate_ is a strong word ..." he mused nasally with a cavalier shrug. Proving to be as clumsy with his words as he was with his limbs, he carelessly drew the bottom line, "I'll just say that the moment she lays eyes on you, you'll be as about as attractive to her as a Baboon's swollen backside. Which is attractive to another Baboon, but in your case, that's not a good thing." ... Hey, he wanted to know.

Carl's eyes narrowed to laser-fine slits of anger, growling with gritted teeth. "... _You_..." He pantomimed where Steve's neck should be with his hands, two shaky claws outstretched just waiting to clamp around.

Steve could have run. But somehow, pitted against the consequences of his carelessness, he felt deserving of the Big Guy's wrath. So he cowered, his shoulders lifting to cradle his ears in shame as Carl laid into him. "I've _had_ it from here to Pluto with _you_ and your crazy _experiments_! How many times have I told you _not_ to bring anymore of your bone-headed inventions into my house?!" _Temper, temper._ Ever aware of his blood-pressure issues, Carl somehow managed to forced an eerie grin ... not that it mattered because he still couldn't keep control of the volume, "If this costs me a divorce, I'm going to sue you so _hard_ , your great-grandchildren will be paying my alimony!"

"Calm down, Carl - I was just about to work on an antidote in case this happened! Just in the nick of time," Steve insisted desperately, triggering some semblance of calm in Carl as his burgeoning anger slowly deflated. "All I have to do is head down to the lab and I can have you fixed up before the rooster roosts! In the meantime ..." he leaned in to talk behind his hand as if to unveil a secret, "Stay upwind of Harriette; I suggest you give the Super 8 a ring."

"I am _not_ going to a motel, Steve. I'm gonna just go down to the police station and stay outta sight there ... _on my day off_!" Carl griped as he backed off of his anger long enough to concern himself with the fact that a shower should be his first priority, peering down to his soaked and smelly jump-suit.

"You definitely look like you could use a little R&R," Steve cautiously interjected with a sage nod as he also took note of the older man's disheveled state, who shot him the evil eye in response. Even though everyone knew Steve was a walking disaster, nobody was more aware than Carl that he'd always end up the unfortunate target of Steve's mishaps somehow. He also knew that Steve's misguided and awkwardly brilliant mind meant well.

Opting against murdering the nerd, all he could do instead was shake his head in disbelief as he tried to sort out the obvious questions. "... Steve, I just wanna know one thing," he began as he retreated to the toolbox to grab a towel to pat himself down, irritation still tight in his voice, "Why on _Earth_ would you invent something like this? You've had a lot of insane ideas in the past but this seems so ... pointless! _And_ dangerous! Do you know that I have merit to kill you for potentially ruining my marriage?! Our wedding anniversary is barely a week away!"

"I know ... I'm really sorry, Big Guy!" Steve moaned in shame as his head hung, following Carl back into the yard to plop down on the bench next to the bushes as he mused over the question at hand, sinking into the disappointment of his failure. "Honestly ... my heart hasn't been in tip-top condition. It's telling my mind to do things I would never conceive of. Oh, but Carl, I just don't know what to do anymore!" he cried desperately, flailing defeat. "I've been dipping the honey hook for years but the prize fish just ain't bitin'! And believe me, the honey is _sweet_."

Peeking from under the towel as he wiped his face, Carl's brows furrowed in confusion. This boy and his nonsensical metaphors. "Fish!? Honey?!" It took seconds to put two and two together before his heated aura cooled - the realization slowly dawned on him. "...Oh. I see," he conceded softly as he regarded Steve, who was now slouched forward, cradling his chin in his hands with a pitiful pout, crying out with the look of a love-sick man.

A wave of empathy flushed his irritation as memories of his own youth flooded back to him - he could remember how devastating young love was. With a sigh, Carl ultimately surrendered to his compassion and decided to lend Steve an ear as he took a seat next to him on the bench. "You thought falling out of love with Laura would give you some relief, am I right?"

Somehow, Carl had figured over the years Steve would eventually just accept Laura's friendship; he was surprised enough that Steve had managed to get _that_ much credit from her. For a while there, he thought the nerd had finally let up being that he had his own girlfriend ... then again, like most of the family, he'd never really understood that weird little infatuation triangle he had going on there. All he knew was that his daughter had been as consistent in her answer as he'd been in pursuing her. Considering how serious the situation must've been for the nerd to create an anti-love potion, as angry as he'd been, Carl suddenly felt responsible for offering sound guidance as his legal guardian.

"Did I ever," Steve admitted with a rueful shake of his head before straightening from his slouch, sorting through the thoughts that had plagued him for the last couple weeks before dramatically giving a summation. "I just want to make my life more _practical_. I'm easin' on down the path towards adulthood and I've come to a fork in the road, Carl! Ignoring my feelings doesn't help and neither does screaming them to the top of my lungs in the grandest of fashions! The potion seemed like the only logical solution," he conceded with a defeated sigh, declaring in self-deprecation, "I've been foolish thinking I'll ever be worthy of such a rare and precious gem."

"Steve ... it's foolish to think that you - or anybody - can _solve_ love. It's one of the greatest mysteries of the universe."

"More like a heart-eating virus that get more aggressive with time. And when it comes to the seven-year itch, poison ivy can't even compete."

Carl couldn't help but chuckle - as quirky as his analogies were, that one struck him as particularly true. "Tell me about it. Even so ... love is organic and unapologetic, whether it's reciprocated or not. And even though the unrequited kind can be pretty painful, I think trying to cure that with a potion is only gonna make things worse for you," he countered with the wisdom of a man who'd loved and lost before, even though he knew he would never have much of a solution to offer someone as hard-headed as Steve.

"Yeah, Eddie said so too," Steve said with a nod, identifying the pattern in the advice he'd been given lately. It directly coincided with his uncertainty to follow through. "And the closer I get to perfecting it, the more unsettling the idea is. I can't imagine my life without Laura and yet ... having her so close to my heart is excruciating sometimes."

"I know how you feel about Laura, Steve. _Everybody_ does," Carl said tightly, tired of stating the obvious. "But have you considered that just _maybe_ ..." he paused to carefully choose his words, since he knew the issue was still an open wound for the boy but considering the extreme measures he was about to take, Carl figured it was time to be said, "... after all these years ... she just isn't the right one for you?"

"Oh, that can't be it. Myra's the left one so right is all there is," Steve replied with instant, objective logic, the obvious implications drilling right through his head - in one ear and out the other. It was as if he were immune to the mental suggestion that Laura wasn't for him, no matter how practical it was.

Carl sighed in defeat as a result and shook his head to himself. Go figure. He should've known convincing Steve to thwart his obsession was a long-shot. So he took another approach: the Jedi-mind trick. "But just because she doesn't feel the same way doesn't mean you have to force your feelings to go away. In fact, realizing that you're wasting your time is the first step to moving on naturally. And _amazingly_... you're ready to do just that!" he insisted with an encouraging grin.

Blink. Steve's slumped posture stiffened as Carl's optimism sparked a flame of hope in him. "I am?"

"Absolutely!" Carl said brightly as he began to paint a picture for Steve in hopes it was enough to sway him. "Why, you said yourself you'll _never_ be worthy of her, _riiiight_? What are you going to do in the meantime while you're wasting time feeling sorry for yourself? Why, with your _brilliant_ scientist mind, you could create your own line of Stepford Wives in her likeness - problem solved!"

Hmm. That was definitely an interesting notion and the gears in Steve's mind started to crank at the pitch. While creating his own cybernetic version of his lady love was definitely something he was capable of, he knew the perfect replica of her would _never_ compare to the real beauty she was, inside and out. In either case, he knew that Carl was right ... it was just a matter of believing he was capable of moving on without a scientifically sound boost. "Oh ... you really think I'll get over her?"

"Yeah!" Carl belted quickly, his advice losing steam since he'd much rather be taking a shower right now anyway. "And anyway, I'm sure there's somebody out there who is crazy enough to love you but not so crazy that they're better off in an asylum. Compatibility is key. And it'll come when you're ready for it." He gave Steve an encouraging pat on the back as his irritation began to return full circle, jabbing calmly, "And when you do stop stalking my daughter, I'll finally have some peace and quiet. In the meantime, I think you should get rid of that stuff, Steve, you're not giving yourself enough credit."

"... Know what?!" Steve bellowed suddenly as he gave his knee a slap and hopped to his feet, ignited by a sudden sense of optimism he hadn't encountered since this whole dilemma started. "... You're absolutely right! I don't need some artificial serum to tailor my feelings! I'm stronger than that! After I cook up the antidote to this baby and give you your groove back, I'll get rid of it!" he declared with a wiping motion of his arm.

"Good." His job done, Carl wiped his hands together as if to do away with the matter before standing as well, having every intention of escaping the nerd before he began one of his dramatic soliloquies. Unfortunately, Steve beat him to the punch and he was forced to give him audience.

"I have better experiments to work on anyway, like a new memory enhancer - I could use my research to find that bonding agent I've been looking for," Steve contemplated to himself, starting to pace as he visualized a bright future of bachelorhood, gesticulating grandly, "Maybe I just need to get out there more ... _expaaaaand_ my horizons to the end of the Earth and beyond. YUP! It's time to moooove ooonnn and gloriously sow my Urkel oats!" With a bright grin, he turned towards Carl and graciously embraced his shoulders with one arm, "Gee, I feel a lot better now! Thanks, Big Guy!"

"Don't thank me yet," Carl insisted through gritted teeth as he glared at Steve's hand curled on his shoulder, "... because if you don't fix me and get this mess off my property right now, I _guarantee_ you won't be so grateful when I Achy-Break your neck!"

 _Yikes._ Realizing he'd lost his head there for a second, Steve rapidly withdrew his arm and hopped away as if dodging hot grease. "Don't you worry, I'll run to the lab and get to work, pronto! Remember, try to avoid Harriette at all costs until I get back." Not wanting to delay the demise of his invention a second more, Steve quickly grabbed as many of the fallen items out of the grass that he could carry and pivoted to march with determination towards the gate.

" _Right_. One thing I don't get, Steve," Carl said as a sudden spark of curiosity gripped him, stopping Steve in his tracks just before he crossed the threshold of the gate.

"What's that?"

It was clear in Carl's expression that trying to figure out Steve Urkel was more difficult than college calculus. "You've been buzzing around Laura like a fly since you were kids. And she's been swatting you away just as long. You've had plenty of opportunities to get over her - what made you wanna do this now?"

"... Uhhhhhhh ..." Steve balked, his gaze wandering innocently in space as he quickly tried to counter such a foreboding question. Did he really want to admit the father of his lady love that he'd been under the spell of a whole new level of black magic since that heart-breakingly amazing kiss at the auction? That he was an impish, lust-filled fiend hopelessly addicted to everything about his sweet, innocent daughter?

Sure, this would appear to be nothing new but he'd been plagued with unspeakably private _-_ dare he say, _impure -_ thoughts of Laura that he somehow hadn't been able to conceive of before that kiss. Thoughts that would probably get him murdered for real if he spilled them to Carl. The kind of thoughts that would irrefutably justify his questionable actions and not in a good way. At least when he was a kid, he could write off his fantasies as adolescent hiccups. But they weren't kids anymore and invalidating himself was no longer effective in suppressing his natural testosterone-driven desires.

Besides, he didn't even know how to articulate such shameful thoughts if his life depended on it. So he quickly opted against it and rambled to find an excuse to dodge the question instead since he'd had enough brushes with the Big Guy's wrath for one day. "... No time to talk! Much work to do! Much, much, much! _Adios!_ " And just like that, Steve dashed out of the gate and out of sight, leaving a trail of dust kicked up in his wake.

Blink. As abrupt as Steve's exit had been, Carl didn't dare question it. He didn't know what he said, but it worked - the nerd has finally left the building. "Unbelievable," Carl murmured begrudgingly to himself as he helplessly surveyed the mess around him, sinking into the realization that he had to sleep on that stiff, uncomfortable couch at the station tonight. "All I wanted to do was a little yard work today but _noooooo_... "

* * *

 _ **A HALF HOUR LATER ...**_

"Hmm hm-hmm hmm hm-hm-hm, _doo-daaaah, doo-daaah_..." Steve hummed cheerfully to himself as he made his way through the east wing of the University's science building with his supplies cradled in his arms, the pep in his step sure to carry him towards new beginnings.

He was more than confident he could produce a working antidote by dawn but he couldn't afford any distractions. So he was instantly relieved that the lab was unoccupied when he walked up to peer through the observation window; he knew he would have to utilize every station to create the serum quickly. The sooner he fixed Carl up, the sooner he could do away with this entire experiment and find a more ... as the Big Guy put it, _organic_ way of dealing with this disturbing emotional ailment called love.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, he had every intention on bee-lining to his designated station to set up shop, only for his gait to be halted by an obstacle he'd kicked over on the way to the door. His brows shot up curiously as he looked down to a flat rectangular gift box on the floor by his feet, neatly wrapped and accompanied with an envelope. Blinking, he took a quick look around the surrounding area in confusion. "Hm! I don't remember this being here ..."

Oh, well! He was always up for solving a good mystery! Kneeling by the box, he gently set his supplies on the floor beside it and picked it up to examine it. Tilting it this way and that, he noticed the gift wrap had multi-colored slices of cheese as clipart all over it, topped with a bright yellow bow. Instantly amused, he couldn't help but let out nasally chortle and a couple of snorts. "Clever! Must be for me."

And this assumption was confirmed when he picked up the card and saw 'Steve' written on the envelope in cursive ... a familiar handwriting that he should have identified right away but was still rather taken aback by the fact that he had a random gift sitting here! Without a second thought, he shrugged dismissively - must've been something from Myra. Only she would know and put thought into the fact that he found cheese gift wrap just as exciting as the gift itself.

In any case, he was suddenly bursting to see what he got! Beaming with excitement, he began to unravel the paper from the box and neatly folded it for later because ... only Steve cared about stowing away gift wrap. Just to build his own anticipation, he lifted the unwrapped box to his ear and gave it a rattle, trying to take a gander at the contents. And when he couldn't take it anymore, he finally set the box on the floor and dramatically lifted the lid after a tongue-drilling drum-roll.

... And what he saw absolutely blew his mind. His bubbly grin vanished as if a strong wind had suddenly came by and blew it away. Slowly sinking to sit on his heels, he froze in awe as every emotional organ in him melted in disbelief. Walking into the lab, this had been the last thing he expected!

Recovering from his initial shock, he finally reached into the box to grab at the contents, lifting out a large, beautifully framed photo of him and Laura from their senior prom, dressed in their matching black and royal blue formal wear. He remembered that night like it was yesterday - even though he'd become her date on accident, he clearly remembered it being the first night they'd connected on a level that felt _organic_! They had actually become much closer friends from that point on.

Not once did she complain or gripe when he tried to dance with her, held her hand ... or even when they took this photo. He'd been expecting her to keep her distance and take the picture in the most unromantic way possible and he'd had every intention on respecting that; he hadn't been expecting to take pictures in the first place. But to his surprise, he remembered how insistent she was that they take the photos right even though she never told him she was actually going to buy her prom pictures, much less share them with him over a year later. He'd always just assumed that she hadn't wanted to embrace the memory of being forced to go to prom with nerdy Urkel, despite telling him that it had been one of the best nights of her life.

But there they were, as evidenced in the photo, wrapped up in each other in a way that would easily give the impression that they were high-school sweethearts. They seemed so comfortable and content with Laura leaning into Steve, her forehead resting gently against his jaw with an arm embracing his neck, his arms wrapped around her waist with her hand settled on his lapel - he remembered thinking she could definitely feel how hard his heart was beating.

By far the most stunning visual of all was their smiles and how effortlessly they illuminated the whole photo. It was like they were two peas in a pod and they couldn't be happier - it shocked even him that her smile didn't feel at all forced or disingenuous. Anyone who didn't know them would never be able to tell that this was the same woman who had told him to get lost and go play in traffic over a thousand times - she seemed almost as head-over-heels as he was ... but that could have been his imagination, he had to admit.

As his eyes swept over the heart-thawing sight of her in his arms, he realized just having her next to him made him look two-hundred times cooler! Dare he say ... _handsome_. It may have had a lot to do with the fact that his pants actually fit on prom night or maybe it was because it was difficult to look bad beside something so beautiful - it was like posing next to a diamond statue. That's when he remembered that he'd never felt so relaxed in his life than in that moment; he had just kissed her minutes before taking it after all. It had resulted in him actually standing like a normal person!

He'd been so lost in the details of the photo - details that sprung forth a barrage of unforgettable memories - that he almost forgot to read the card! Slowly putting the frame back in the box, he carefully opened the envelop and opened a folded birthday card and read it outloud, "'To one of my best friends, the only guy I know that can create miracles and destroy them in the same day. Happy Birthday - love Laura. P.S. I promise I'll remember next year.'"

... And this woman had the _nerve_ to wonder why he loved her so much. Stunned and choked up, he belted a few hiccuping sobs. _Sniffle_. He grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and gave his nose a cartoonishly loud and prolonged blow into it.

Talk about a big surprise! Humbled and gracious, he couldn't help but tearfully smile from ear to ear as he placed the lid back on the box. The effect she had on him was devastating and he almost wanted to seethe at how frustratingly hard to get this woman could be at times ... but then ... _wait a minute_. A light bulb flicked on overhead as an interesting thought came to mind.

All this time, he'd thought she hadn't even remembered his birthday and yet not only had she eventually remembered, this was actually the first year Laura had given him anything that didn't involve getting rid of him or leading him astray. Her gift was genuine - _she_ was genuine. And then to give him something as sentimental and spell-binding as this photo? She had to know what effect it would have on him. And let's not forget the kisses ... ohh, _the kisses!_

Laura was a good actress - he still reveled in her performance as Juliette in middle school ... but she wasn't _that_ good! Even though Steve was well aware she'd write off every time she kissed him as a pity kiss, there was no mistaking the taste of tender yearning against her lips, however subtle. It was one of the main things about her kisses he would never forget and he suddenly realized it why it was so odd to him: there was no way she could kiss him like that and still be repulsed by him.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized their friendship had actually been evolving into something unrecognizable lately. She'd actually been _more_ sensitive to his feelings and _more_ perceptive of him, not the other way around! Perhaps that was the root of his confusion - she'd changed her tune dramatically and he wasn't conditioned to process it. Sure, she _said_ she'd never be interested in him and she'd been dodging him more than usual, but ... had he been mistaken in his impulse to create the brew?

His eyes narrowed as they shifted his sockets, becoming steadily suspicious ... he didn't want to jump the gun or even feed into his own tendency to be delusional, but this was only leading to one conclusion in his mind. A scowl of determination crossed his features as he quickly gathered everything up in his arms to make a mad dash through the lab door and towards his station.

... It was time to hit the undo button on the _humongous_ mistake he almost made!

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 8_


	8. Entanglement

_**CHAPTER 8: Entanglement**_

 _Summary: Steve delivers the antidote to Carl and decides to terminate his experiment. Later, while on a date with Myra, he receives a distress call from Max._

* * *

"Afternoon, Lieutenant," a pleasant baritone voice rang through the open door of Captain's office at the precinct, which Carl had hijacked while the Captain was on vacation and where he'd been holed up like a refugee for the past twenty-four hours. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon and he had been seething with impatience the entire morning.

Seated behind the desk, Carl looked up from his paperwork long enough to see Sergeant Harold Jarvis standing in the doorway. He had an impish smirk painted on his countenance as he playfully taunted his supervisor in reference to a most unfortunate encounter earlier that morning, "You always struck me as a 'boxers' kinda guy. Imagine my surprise."

"Reeeeeaaaally funny, Jarvis," Carl retorted irritably through his teeth, less than amused. Letting the paperwork fall from his hands and onto his desk, he regarded his colleague with a scowl of discomfort. "Look, it's been a really miserable day and this whole situation is embarrassing enough so can we please lay off the underwear jokes?"

"How was I supposed to know you'd turned your office into a locker room?" Jarvis replied innocently with a shrug of one shoulder, the smirk on his face widening as he recalled the hilarious sight of a half-nude Carl struggling to get into his uniform. Needless to say, the tactics he used were far from effortless. "That in mind, try _locking_ the door next time. Trust me, you'd be sparing us both a lot of grief ... sir."

"Cute," Carl grunted sarcastically and glared at Jarvis with narrowed eyes, just before his office landline began to ring. Leaning over to look at the caller ID, he cringed when he recognized it as his house number. Harriette had been blowing up the phone all morning and he was no closer to finding a solid excuse, especially now that the morning was gone. Steve should have been here hours ago!

He froze wide-eyed in anticipation and Jarvis looked on with a quirked brow as Carl waited for the rings to subside. Finally, he deflated with a sigh of relief once the phone went silent. Shaking his head shamefully, he regarded the Sergeant pitifully. "I already told you why I had to stay here last night. It's only a matter of time before Harriette divorces me anyway - what woman do you know really believes their husband when they say they have to stay at work on their day off?"

"My wife does," Jarvis replied matter-of-factly, with a clueless shrug of his shoulders. The response prompted a look of bewilderment from Carl. "She encourages it, in fact ... especially on _her_ days off."

 _...Huh?_ After letting that unfortunate riddle process for a few seconds without success, Carl just shook his head dismissively and changed the subject. "...Nevermind. Did you need something, Jarvis?"

"Yeah, the nerd is here," Jarvis replied dryly, going stoned-faced in annoyance. Everyone in the precinct knew what it meant when ' _the nerd is here'_. It meant that it was time to nail down everything that could potentially fall victim to gravity and he just wasn't in the mood today.

"Finally!" Carl cried with relief, exasperated. It wasn't often that he was anxious to see Steve but that usually ended up being the case whenever one of Steve's experiments went awry because, unfortunately, it also meant that he was the only one who could fix it. "Go on, let him in," he beckoned eagerly as he began to stand from the chair behind his desk and walk around it.

Jarvis couldn't help but roll his eyes as he pivoted to bid Carl's wishes only to violently smash right into _the nerd_ himself.

Seems as though Steve beat Jarvis to the punch and had bypassed the guards' demands that he wait for Carl to call him back to the office. Insisting it was urgent, three of the guards had followed behind him as he defiantly scurried through the maze of cubicles to reach the office. It quickly turned into a hilariously animated game of _Duck Duck Goose_ , resulting in Steve and all three of the guards running around like kids on a playground, the officers chasing him until they all reached the office and collided with Jarvis and stacked against each other, collapsing like dominoes in a five-body pile-up right in the middle Carl's door.

A chorus of grunts and groans ensued with Steve's nasally yelps for help shrieking through the precinct building as they struggled to recover from the collision, which was ten times more difficult than it should been. Mainly because every time one of them successfully regained their footing, Steve's clumsy, grabby attempts to regain his own balance resulted in another pile-up! The cluster of entangled limbs flailed hysterically as if the lot of them were drowning at sea.

"Steve, what are you doing?!" Alarmed at the train wreck before him, Carl bolted toward them to unravel the bodies that had now become pretzel-ed in his office, wild hands smacking him in the face as he gripped Steve's shirt and forcibly tried to untangle him from his colleagues. With one solid yank, he was finally able steady Steve on his feet as the rest of the officers finally unscrambled from each other and found their footing as well.

Disoriented and wobbly as he steadied himself, Steve reached to straighten the crooked angle of his glasses on his nose, his blurry vision sharpening in time to see the officers collectively casting him a silent and vicious glare. He then pinpointed Jarvis in particular with a goofy scowl and snarled,"... Watch where you're goin', _bub!_ "

The other officers had to grab Jarvis's shoulders to keep him from pouncing as Steve's gaze swiveled to Carl, his aggravated expression instantly lighting up. "Oh, there you are! Hi-dee-ho, Big Guy!" he greeted brightly with a grin, as if the hell-storm of foolishness he'd just caused had gone right over his head.

All Carl and the officers could do was face-palm in unison, astonished by Steve's moronic antics. For someone so book smart, his cluelessness was incredible sometimes. Speechless, they simply turned on their heels and dragged themselves out of the office, gladly leaving the nerd to Carl's devices. It was clear they would never understand why the Lieutenant kept this pest around.

That's because they didn't understand that to Carl, this incident was nothing out of the ordinary on a Saturday afternoon. In fact, the infringement was relatively mild compared to what he usually put up with under his own roof. Thus the reason why he felt it unnecessary to lay into him right now - there were much more important matters at hand, like saving his marriage!

"What took you so long?" he asked earnestly after the dust of the commotion settled, "You were supposed to be here this morning. Harriette has been calling here almost every half hour - I'm running out of excuses so you better have good news."

"Not to worry, I have the antidote right here!" Steve replied brightly as he reached into the pocket of his khakis to produce a small vial of translucent pink liquid. Carl scrutinized the vial after he reached out to grab it from Steve. "Sorry that I'm tardy; I was up all night running tests and ended up dozing off in the chemical shower."

"Well? What do I have to do?" Carl asked eagerly as he examined the antidote, noticing that the vial had a push sprayer nozzle like a cologne bottle and he nodded in approval. Nice touch.

"Just spray this on you from head to toe and wait fifteen minutes before leaving," Steve directed before leaning in and revealing in a wry, hushed tone, "As a bonus, I added a few pheromone enhancers to insure an _extra special_ welcome home." Wiggling his brows mischievously, he gave Carl a few knowing elbow jabs.

Carl's brows perked attentively, donning a sly grin and chuckled devilishly at the innuendo. "Gee. Thanks, Steve." He pocketed the antidote before giving Steve a few grateful pats on the shoulder. The guy might have been a pest but he wasn't _completely_ useless. Despite having the reputation of being a champion screw-up, ironically, he also had the reputation of being very skilled at fixes his own messes. "I knew you'd come through."

Steve beamed with pride, always given merit to swell up on those rare occasions when the Big Guy offered a compliment. "My pleasure! Why, you'll be rowing down the river of reconciliation in no time! It's the _least_ I could do."

"And what about the brew?" Carl asked succinctly with a furrow of his brows, becoming stoic since he knew that while this antidote solved the problem now, there was still a threat to other unsuspecting innocent people out there as long as the formula existed, _especially_ if Steve was the handler.

"Well, you were right, Carl! I plan to eliminate _all_ of my research in this department. _Finito_. _Hasta la vista_ , Achy!" Steve fearlessly declared, wiping his hands together and pantomiming a poofing gesture before giving a cavalier shrug as if he'd already moved on to bigger and better things. "It's for the best. No sense in putting everyone at risk because of my carelessness. This situation only proves that I'm simply not qualified to Lord over the power of love. The world just isn't ready and neither am I."

Carl deflated in relief and a pleasant smirk replaced his scowl of concern as he noticed how much upbeat Steve seemed since the day before, as if he'd stepped into the acceptance of his emotional dilemma. "That's great, Steve. I'm glad this all worked out as smoothly as it did."

Of course he wanted to give himself the credit for helping the young scientist wise up but what he didn't know was that Steve wasn't really terminating his experiment because he was giving up on his love for Laura or even because the effects were too dangerous ... quite the contrary, which remained Steve's little secret. But the assumption gave Carl the impression that when it came to his daughter, he no longer had to worry about Steve whining about it because he must've _finally_ realized this endless pursuit of what he could never have was futile. "And I hope you learned your lesson."

"Boy, did I ever!" he exclaimed blithely with a grin, dramatically stretching out his arms as if anticipating a bear hug. Had he never spilled the potion on Carl, he might have stumbled upon what he considered one of the best gifts he'd ever gotten too late. A gift that made him realize he could _never_ force himself not to love Laura, no matter how painful living without her would be if he had to.

And oddly enough, the revelation made him feel incredibly relieved, partly because he had an itching suspicion that all these years of perseverance, his efforts _just might_ have the potential to bear fruit, no matter what she said. He didn't know how he knew so but the instinct about it was a lot more pronounced than before, her gift having kicked up a fresh sense of hope and he was glad someone could talk sense into him before he made the absolute wrong decision!

As usual, his mentor had been the catalyst to that epiphany - of course he was grateful! "And I have you to thank ... if you'll allow me to thank you now!"

Carl just cast him the side-eye, his expression deadpan as he stared at those open arms. Without moving an inch closer to respond to the invitation, he mustered a forced a smile, "You're welcome, Steve." His eyes narrowing, he then snarled curtly, "Now, get out."

Aww, man. Left awkwardly hanging hug-less with his arms outstretched, Steve bashfully retreated and instead brushed his hands down the front of his shirt. Flashing a final grin and wave, he turned to amble out of the door like he was told without another word.

Lucky for Carl, Steve had somewhere to be so he didn't dare question why the nerd didn't protest like he usually would. He just shook his head with a smirk of amusement as he began to gather his things so that he could use the antidote and head home. As irritating as Steve was, Carl had to admit that he made life so much more interesting and he could appreciate that - the boy was something else.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT NIGHT...**_

"... 'Clint'?" Myra chirped inquisitively, the name tossed out at random as she walked across the threshold of the front door and into the living room of the Winslow household, a large bushel of pink cotton candy in tow. In similar fashion, Steve wielded a blue bushel with one hand and he held the door open for her with the other, chomping crudely at the spun sugar.

"Clint?!" Steve echoed with befuddlement, poking his head out from the behind the bushel - his mouth and chin covered with an icky blue sugar goatee - to peer over at her with a confused knit of his brow. _What is a 'Clint'?_ he thought to himself, thrown off by Myra's unpredictability. Actually, the entire date had been pretty unpredictable. Despite his initial reluctance, Steve promised to take her to the carnival three days ago when it came into town and he'd been putting it off ever since to occupy his time with the brew while it was still a thing.

Even though his experiment was now terminated and he had a renewed sense of optimism when it came to Laura, the feeling was still only based on a hunch and the entire dilemma only ended up acting as a staunch reminder that he still had a girlfriend that he cared about. At the end of the day, he hated breaking promises and he wasn't the selfish and negligent type.

But ever since he picked her up, he found himself deliberately seeking distractions in order to redirect Myra's constant and aggressive attempts to ravish him. Furthermore, their entire conversation involved Steve trying to ward off random, crazy propositions that popped into her mind and this seemed like one of those moments to brace himself.

"Yeah! 'Clint' for a boy and 'Clarissa' for a girl," Myra clarified zealously as she spun to face him, a fiendish grin sweetly crossing her features as if it had been permanently etched there. _Oh jeepers creepers, here we go again..._ he thought with an impatient roll of his eyes as he slowly shut the door behind him.

Steve knew that minx-y little grin of hers. It was always the red flag that preluded trouble with this girl. But before he could get a word in edgewise, she had already begun mapping her strategy, the words cheerily spit-firing off her tongue like fireworks. "Or maybe that can be the names of the twins - one boy and one girl - and then we can name our third child ... 'Oliver'!"

"Uh ... schnookums -" Steve tried to interject gently, only to be decapitated by her overflowing enthusiasm.

"No-no ... 'Apollo'! What do you think? ' _Apollo Urkel_.' Fitting name for the prodigy of the _genius_ who surpassed Eistein, eh?" she chimed with a seductive purr as she slithered closer to him, any mention of Steve's intelligence triggering her arousal.

 _Uh-oh._ Steve recoiled as she moved in on him, sidestepping her to put the cotton candy down and wipe his sugary mouth on his sleeve. "... Myra, I don't think -"

Clearly, she had no intentions of allowing him much input on the matter; she continued to ramble on aimlessly, cutting him off before he had room to protest. "But what if our third child is a girl?" she mused eagerly, gazing wistfully towards the ceiling as more names came to mind. "... 'Isla', 'Kyra', 'Yasmine', 'Miriam', 'Todd'?"

This was simply ridiculous. His voice began to tighten with aggravation as he attempted to interject her role call yet again. "Myra, I - _'Todd'?_ " he asked after a beat, cutting _himself_ off as he was again sidetracked by her erratic suggestions, forced to be sure he heard her right. "... For a girl?"

"Well, I don't believe in discrimination," she replied candidly, prompting a blank stare from Steve. Slowly lifting a hand to rub at his face in exasperation, he was actually surprised at how impatient he was becoming - it was pretty difficult to annoy the King of Annoying but even he would argue that Myra could give him a run for his money. Taking a deep breath, he tried to gently reason with her, but became exponentially more irked the more she talked over him.

"Listen, we need to t -"

"'Ezra!' That could be a boy or a girl, right?"

"Myra -"

"But if you ask me, I think 'Steven Junior' and 'Myra Boutrous Boutrous Junior' would work for all eight of the kids; we'll just have to make sure they have the appropriate name tags on at all times -"

"MYRA."

"- color coded - so that when we're at family picnics and soccer games everyone can know who's who. Blue for boys, and pink for girls! No, I like yellow for girls better ... But they'd have to be different shades of -"

" _Myra_ , stop!" Steve finally belted over her as he blew his top, covering his ears with both hands and shrieking in desperation, "Stop-stop-stop, _STOOOP!_ "

Startled by the hysterical volume of his protest, she ended up backpedaling and colliding with the wall behind her, the cotton candy flying out of her grip as she fell silent in shock and regarded him with a frown of callow innocence. Well, at least he got her attention now. "... What is it?!"

"Listen to yourself, Myra - has your mind completely escaped this galaxy?!" he yelped irritably with an exasperated flail, "We've already birthed a small army and I'm just finding out about it!"

Her jaw dropped in disbelief at his over-exaggerated claim as she pushed off the wall and planted her fists on hips, offended that he was implying that she was crazy but still chiming ever so sweetly. "I'm just trying to plan ahead, honey bump. These are things we're going to have to think about soon!"

"Soon?!" he squawked incredulously. "That'll be a neat trick! We've never done the ..." Hesitating, he warily looked over one shoulder and then the other until he was sure the coast was clear before leaning in to chastely seethe at her, "... _horizontal polka!_ Where do you presume these Steven and Myra Juniors are gonna come from? Chuckie Cheese?!"

Not at all phased by his sarcasm, her salacious grin returned as she gave an innocent shrug and slowly advanced on him again and the flirtatious sway in her step was no accident. "Could be. I'm always up for a little ... _adventure_ ," she purred as a hand reached out to deftly walk her fingers up his chest, causing him to awkwardly squirm. "And I hear the ball pit is a good place to start."

" _Myra Munkhouse!_ Have you no shame?!" Steve exclaimed, shocked at her lasciviously inappropriate suggestions ... though it was pretty hard to pretend that he wasn't enjoying the jarring sensation of her bewitching touch as her palm flattened to seductively caress his chest, a ticklish giggle or two hiccuping out of him.

"Oh, Steven, don't be such a stick in the mud!" Myra countered charmingly against his prudish nature with a sweet smile, pushing the envelope of her agenda by hoping he will eventually latch onto her manipulative suggestions.

To her, such measures were necessary to keep her Stevie from slipping through her fingertips. She may have been a little nutty, but she wasn't a dummy; she was very aware that she was barely clinging onto him just by how distant he'd been lately. In fact, she'd been clinging onto the desperate want for more than puppy love with him for the last four years. Planting the idea of a future together felt like a last resort tactic ... underhanded as all hell and far from subtle, but a tactic nonetheless. "A lot of couples enter parenthood ill-prepared and I just want to give us a head start."

But to her chagrin, Steve wasn't biting. It was a little difficult to concentrate when she was touching him like that but he managed to maintain his composure and stand his ground after a few deep breaths. "Myra, I have had it with you planning out my life before I've had a chance to live it!" he asserted firmly, grabbing her hands and holding them so that she couldn't continue to distract him with her ... _sensuosity_.

"Now I already told you, I want to be married before any of that happens and we haven't even graduated college yet! Put the brakes on, woman, I'm too young to have little Urkels." He wasn't the type to be demanding but quite frankly, he'd had enough of her badgering and he gathered the courage to assert his boundaries. "Stop it right now or the wait for that ring is gonna be a long one!"

Ironically, it was in that moment that he recognized what Laura must've been going through all these years ... even so, he refused to believe that he was as bad as Myra when it came to the art of pestering persuasion. At least he eventually conceded - this girl was relentless! Case in point:

"So you _are_ gonna propose to me after college!" she proclaimed with stars in her eyes, skillfully picking out absolutes between the lines of his statement and ignoring his demands altogether. With a delighted grin, she quickly closed the space between them and slithered her arms around his midriff, holding him hostage before he could wiggle away.

... Oh, she was a clever damsel. And apparently, no counter-argument would be effective, either. Held captive in her arms with her curvaceous body molded against him, it was rather difficult to concentrate on much with her exceptionally rotund chest pressing against him like that, but he was vigilant in his efforts, quickly protesting between flubbering stutters, "N-n-no-no-no, d-d-doodleb-b-bu-bug, I didn't say _that_ , I just -"

"Ohhhh, _Stevie.._." Myra purred as her hands slithered up his chest, interrupting any chance he had to object, her voice dripping with honey, "I've waited _sooo_ long to be certain that you'll be mine forever." Her hands caught behind his neck and yanked his taller frame eye-level, the aggressive motion nearly snatching him off balance but Myra ensured that her possessive grip on him was enough to keep him steady.

"As God is my witness, I'll be the most amazing wife to you that this primitive planet has ever seen," she murmured seductively as one hand grabbed for his chin, forcibly turning his head so that her lips touched his ear, her breath feathery against it as she whispered, "With my King by my side, as long as my tender lungs draw breath, he will want _... for nothing_."

Steve's eyes widened to saucers as Myra opted to give him a preview of her 'Queenly' duties, electricity shooting up his spine as he felt the moist tip of her tongue ever so slowly swipe against his ear lobe and he was instantly paralyzed with desire. Oh yeah, that'll do it. "... _Whoa, mama_..." he shuddered with a whisper, the entranced words barely audible as his eyes fluttered shut involuntarily. He desperately tried to ignore the imminent response he felt bellow the belt. _Doggone her!_

But no matter how bewitching she could be, Steve's willpower was a very difficult wall to break when it came to relations, hence the extreme measures. Ultimately, his respect for her and himself would always prevail and despite momentarily compromising with temptation, he managed to grab ahold of her hands and pull them away from his neck, stealing control of their unusual dynamic back from her as he insisted with earnest to convey that he was serious as a heart attack, "Myra, do not put words in my mouth! _I mean it_ , let's just ... take things one day at a time, okay? Don't make me get the hose!" And he stubbornly held onto her hands and peered into her eyes gravely, distrusting that she wouldn't continue to try to manipulate him.

Recognizing that austere look in his eyes - especially considering it a very rare occasion when Steve got stoic - Myra finally caught the correct cue to stand down and surrender, a look of disappointment taking over her features as she opted to play it his way. She knew she was walking a delicate line between persuading him and pushing him away, so she chose to concede, gently withdrawing her hands from his grip and clasping them in front of her like a perfect little lady.

Despite that, they both knew that she would never give up. Lowering her gaze in submission, she peeked up to him long enough to flash him another sweet smile and a coy remark to accompany it. "Don't pump the brakes too soon, hot stuff - you might miss out on the adrenaline rush."

 _RIIIIIINNNNNNNNNG!_ Speaking of adrenaline...

 _Oh, thank God!_ Miraculously saved by the bell as the landline began to ring, Steve bolted like a madman for the phone just to bypass any further interaction with Myra. He quickly picked it up before it even made it to the second ring, eternally grateful to whoever it was who just saved his sanity. "Winslow residence! Steven Q. Urkel speaking!" he chimed brightly into the receiver as Myra looked on, her head giving a curious tilt as she tried to fill in the gaps of the conversation that ensued.

"Oh, hiya Maxine! How's it g - w-what? ... _What?_... What?!" he squawked louder and louder, plugging a finger in his opposite ear, squinting as if that would somehow help him hear better. "Speak up, I can't hear you, Max! ... _What did you say?_ " Finally getting frustrated, he scowled and hollered into the receiver, " _..._ Tell somebody to turn down that racket!" When whatever was being said was finally coherent, it was clear by the look of shock that suddenly ignited his expression as he gasped, "She ... she's _what?!"_

Blink. Myra's brows furrowed as her curiosity piqued, slowly walking towards Steve and he warily scrutinized her stalking form from the corner of his eye.

"... O-okay! Keep an eye on her, Max. I'll be right there!" The last ten minutes suddenly irrelevant, Steve quickly hung up the phone and scurried in Myra's direction in a panicked frenzy. "Ohhh, no ... oh, red alert, ladybug! I have to get going!" He grabbed her hand began to hastily lead her towards the front door. "Come on, I'll take you home on the way."

Did he really think he was going to get away that easy without an explanation? Myra thought not! Just before he went to grab the knob, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and intercepted his path to block the door, her arms lifting to fold beneath her sternum as she regarded him with narrowed eyes. "Going where?! Isn't Maxine _Laura's_ friend? What does she want with you?"

Aww, darnit! He'd really been hoping he would be fast enough to make it out of the door before she did that. He certainly didn't want to waste time arguing any further so the gears started clicking immediately, starting with the first step to persuading her: practical truth. "Laura's been, uh ... _compromised_. She's at the Delta house I have to go pick her up and bring her home before her folks find out."

"Hmph. A _fraternizing_ tramp. How shocking," she replied with apathetic sarcasm biting in her harp-like voice. And now it was her turn to become frustrated - this issue was about the only thing about Steve that really pushed her buttons. The cheeriness in her voice began to dissipate. "Why do you always have to go to her rescue, Steven? Couldn't her brother or somebody else pick her up? And Max is with her, couldn't she just drag her home on a leash?"

"Sugarlips, we don't have time to argue!" Steve insisted desperately as he carelessly dismissed her questions, once again reaching to grab her hand. "C'mon, get your pretty little buns in gear - I promise I'll make this up to you, okay?"

But Myra was having none of it. She snatch her hand away and planted her hands on her hips and took a very clear and concise stand as she took a step forward assertively. "No."

Blink. Steve was actually forced to pause in his frenzy to calmly to consider what just happened, taking a look behind him as if to confirm that she hadn't been talking to someone else. In four whole years, he could swear this was first time she ever denied him anything. His brows quirked in surprise. "...No?"

" _No,_ " she repeated firmly, the scowl on her face and the bass in her voice kind of chilling since she rarely fell out of her peppy bubble. Slightly taken aback, Steven cautiously recoiled - whoa, she was serious, huh? "Steven, I see what Miss Laura-Legs-Wider-Than-A-Tunnel-Winslow is doing to you. It breaks my heart to have to stand by and watch that prissy parasite continue to manipulate you just so she can snatch what's mine right from under my nose. And on top of that, she's got her little hyena troupe doing her dirty work for her. Do you really think I'm going to just stand here and allow you to fall victim to her sick little games?" And with that, she took a single step with a demanding stomp of her foot. "I. Said. _No!_ "

As chicken as Steven tended to be sometimes when it came to conceding to her demands, this was one case in which he was simply unphased. Considering the weight of responsibility he felt in getting to Laura in that moment, he was more concerned about what was happening miles away than the storm gathering right in front of him.

As a result, all he did was shrug in surrender. If she refused to cooperate, than he decided he'd have to make her. "... All right. Have it your way!" With that, he quickly bent down to sweep her off of her feet, causing her to squeak in surprise as he lifted her small frame into his arms and began to rush out of the door.

"AAAHHHHHHHH! _Curses!_ " she shrieked in protest and she flailed vigorously in his arms, her voice echoing loudly down the neighborhood block. _"_ Steven Quincy Urkel, you put me down this instant!"

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9..._


	9. Crude Awakenings

_**CHAPTER 9: Crude Awakenings**_

 _Summary: Laura deals with the ramifications of a 'wild' and blurry night, leaving both Steve and Stefan questioning her erratic and unexplainable behavior._

* * *

 ** _THE NEXT MORNING_**

 _RIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG!_

Laura's cloudy eyes blinked open madly as they adjusted to the blinding morning light that scattered across her face. She quickly yanked the comforter over head defiantly in hopes it would cocoon her from the world and save her from having to wake up just yet. " _Nhnnhhhnn_... no one lives here anymore ..." she groaned low in reluctance as a zombie-like arm slowly crept from beneath the quilted layers so that a single finger could lethargically fish at the receiver of the landline perched on the nightstand.

The wails of the phone had barely raised her from the dead but the rings were beginning to toss echoes against her skull until her temples pulsed brutally. Despite desperately preferring not to move, it was either answer the phone or throw it out the window to stop the ringing.

After countless failed attempts at trying to pick up the receiver without sitting up - in fear that her head would explode, no doubt - she finally huffed in frustration on the fourth or fifth ring and furiously threw the covers off of her legs to do just that ... only to sit up and realize upon peering at said legs that she still had on the same outfit she wore the previous night.

Lifting the collar of her shirt to her nose for a sniff, it was clear that a shower was long overdue as well. She smelled like a brewery and she felt like she tried to sprint across a highway and failed dearly. Her brows knitted in confusion as her squinty eyes bounced in her aching head in search for answers lost in a fog of blankness.

These thoughts seemed to be the catalyst that abruptly sparked a reel of disturbing flashbacks, each coming on harder than the last and more vicious than the headache that throbbed madly between her ears, forcing her to grimace harder and harder until she slumped over like a ragdoll. Her hands clamped around her head as if it were in danger of rolling right off her shoulders.

All within the course of the another persistent ring from the landline, Laura was slaughtered by a tsunami of memories that had been otherwise blacked out since she woke up and she lamented her alky-free reputation with a pitiful whine. " _…_ Oh _, no…_ "

Then her bewildered gaze darkened as she glared at the phone that was determined to get her attention. She instantly blamed whoever the heck was calling at this godforsaken hour for her grief - had it not been for them — whoever it was — she could have remained deeply oblivious to her own shame and pain-free until noon at least. _But nooo..._

With an irritated roll of her eyes, she surrendered to the task of having to answer it and snatched up the receiver to her ear, her free hand lifting to catch her throbbing head as she snapped into the phone with gritted teeth, "Who. _Is_ _it?!_ "

"...Well, well. That's _one_ way to say good morning," Stefan remarked suavely after a beat, slightly taken aback by the attitude since it definitely wasn't characteristic of her to answer the phone with claws out. Nevertheless, he tried his best not to let her sourness deter his intentions to start both their days on a good note. Afterall, he'd been looking forward to talking to her since his plane landed. "... And good morning to you too, _amore mio_. I must've disturbed your beauty sleep," he crooned through his confusion, hoping a sprinkle of romantic Italian would break the ice.

 _Aw, crap!_ Laura could almost hear his brows quirk in surprise and she recoiled deeper into the disaster this day had already become once she heard who was on the receiving end of her frustration. She instantly cringed with regret, as if she'd just swore in front of the teacher and would get sent to the principal's office. "… Stefan?" she chirped sheepishly to assert her innocence. She probably would have remembered he was calling this morning had she'd just stayed her chug-happy butt home last night.

"None other," he replied, hoping she was subdued enough to receive the usual verbal showering of sweet nothings, "And this is a personal international wake-up call from Rome to one very beautiful rose ... who woke up with a few thorns in her stem." But that was easy for him to say - it technically wasn't 'morning' in Italy at all.

"Oh, no-no ... I'm sorry," she replied apologetically, though it was a challenge to sound convincing when it felt like her brain was being smashed with a sledgehammer. Her expression twisted with a perpetual grimace, her free hand lifted to rub and pinch away the pain piercing between her eyes. It seemed like the more she woke up, the more brutal the gong-like vibrations in the back of her skull became. Eventually giving up the struggle to keep her voice lilted for the sake of faking excitement, the next sentence surfed from her lips on a slow wave of agony, "… I just … ugh, _God_ , my head is _killing_ me ..."

It wasn't until the words carelessly flew from her mouth that she realized what she was implying — predictably, she had no intentions of giving him the full scoop on her 'crazy' night out and hoped she hadn't raised any suspicions in him. What she wasn't expecting was amusement at her expense instead…though she probably should have at this point. "Heh-heh-heh … that's hilarious, Laura," Stefan chuckled heartily almost immediately in response, oblivious to the fact that the discomfort and irritation in her voice wasn't an act.

" _Ack_ ," she winced again and momentarily pulled the receiver from her ear as the volume of his chuckles amplified the intensity of the pulsing aches, rendering his amusement irrelevant as she graciously murmured an important request: "… Can you do me a favor and … _whisper_ for the rest of my life? 'Kay, thanks."

Unsurprisingly, that only made him laugh harder … and louder, which did nothing for her burgeoning aggravation. " _HA-HA-ha-ha_... oh, man," he mused with delight, finding her commitment to the 'act' a riot — all to prove to him that she was capable of being a wild woman, which he just _knew_ wasn't even a function of Winslow genes. And all Laura could do was silently stare deadpan into space as the unforgiving headache continued to pulverize her. "Y'know, this is one of many reasons why I love you - your sense of humor can chase away shadows."

If only he knew that she wasn't kidding. "… H-heh ... _you're welcome_ …" she murmured with a dry snicker, feigning amusement in an attempt to humor him, only for it to morph into a hiccup of pain as another wave of migraines silenced her. She saw absolutely nothing funny about this predicament. But of course, she knew full well why he was laughing. Part of her truly wished she could share the joke with him like she did yesterday … the other part wanted to launch the phone against the wall until it shattered into a million pieces to spare herself the debilitating irony of the jest.

"Let me guess, you got 'wild and crazy' last night, is that it?" Stefan teased dubiously, not believing for a second that she had it in her despite how persistently listless she sounded. "Blamed it on the boogie? Got yo' _swerve_ on, right?"

Laura wished she could find the backbone to admit it. In actuality, she was tempted to give slip of the tongue if only to finally put the 'goody-two-shoes' myth to rest but she knew revealing one part of the story would force her to unwrap the whole burrito. "... I guess you could say that. I swerved _somewhere_ back there."

" _Ha_. I'm in stitches. _Stop_ it, Laura," Stefan jested, genuinely tickled that she would go to such comedic lengths to convince him otherwise. But he was also aware that long-distance calls cost an arm and a leg. His amusement mellowing out, he spared her any further teasing. "Seriously, though. Did you have a good time?"

"... Ah … _y'know_ …" she replied hesitantly, borderline mumbling her response in hopes that it wasn't coherent enough to elaborate on. "... Same ol', same ol'. Danced a little, talked a little …" _Tipped a little._ "It was actually kinda boring," she lied, for the first time rejoicing in the fact that he was on the other side of the planet - at least that way she could convulse with guilty cringes in private.

However, to her chagrin, she could tell that was the moment suspicion set in for him even if he didn't know it yet. He had been teasing her this whole time about the party for a reason after all; she tended to forget that he knew her better than she thought he did. So far, her fibs weren't stopping the litany of questions he tossed at her, which only served to inflame her headache further.

"Boring? The _Deltas?_ " he asked skeptically, subconsciously addressing one thing he knew about Laura: even if she wasn't a 'wild thing' per se, everyone also knew she would never show her face at a 'boring' event. Besides, the Deltas were notorious for their parties and everyone on campus had heard the stories, hence the impulse to cavalierly gossip the contrary. "That's unlikely, y'know. I heard this one guy did a head-stand on a keg blind-folded one time and he -"

"What's with the interrogation, Stefan?" Laura snapped tersely, cutting off his chance to argue against her blatant lie after having exhausted herself of the facade to the point of resentment. While it was unfairly directed at him for being the perfect, perceptive boyfriend that he had always been, she was really angry at herself for carrying a burden of secrecy that was becoming far too heavy to support with each passing day.

But in the midst of all that haze and confusion, and now the very disorienting consequences of her reckless behavior, she wasn't quite ready to let that burden go for fear of exposing herself. And so, in that moment, she made a conscious decision to cling to it with all her might, gritting through the aches that had now traveled from her head and spread to her neck and shoulders. "Weren't you the one that said I wouldn't get 'wild' in a million years? I am _so_ _glad_ you find that I'm the most dull girlfriend in the world so amusing."

 _...Touchy, touchy._ "… I-I'm-I'm not _interrogating_ you? I mean, I-I just was kidding! I just thought …" Stefan recoiled with a surprised stutter, the venom in her stinger throwing him for a loop. It hadn't been his intention to grill her but his approach from the beginning had actually been quite innocent … only because he didn't really want to believe what his gut was already telling him. Now that she was giving him a reason to believe it, he suddenly found himself switching on a dime from defense to offense, his tone becoming cynical as his own frustration set in. "Oh, I dunno, Laura. I just flew over four-thousand miles; I _thought_ you'd be happier than that to hear from me. Forgive me — must be the jet-lag." After all, this wasn't first time that she'd flown off the rail on him for, seemingly, no reason at all. Even he - a man of few worries - could only take so much.

"Not unless you can stop my head from throbbing. And from that distance, I'm willing to bet not," she sneered boldly, a foolhardy hint at the fact that she knew what 'hammered' meant now. She wasn't sure if it was the hangover talking or if she was just looking for a way to rush him off of the phone in order to save face but before she could stop herself, she somehow caught the audacity to fend him off with projection and more sarcasm. Unfortunately for her big mouth, she ended up unveiling one of her most sacred insecurities about their relationship in the process. "No, you've got more important things to do, like get paid to take amazing pictures with half-naked girls."

…And she regretted it the minute it flew from her stupid, reckless lips. Becoming even angrier at herself, she momentarily snatched the phone from her ear in order to seethe and flail both arms dramatically in defeat, silently cursing the hole she was clumsily digging deeper for herself — she knew the conversation could only go left from here.

A Freudian slip or not, if it had been her intention to strike a nerve in him, she certainly succeeded. And considering how difficult it was to ruffle Stefan's feathers, the affronted bass of his voice, however subtle, wasn't hard to distinguish. "… Is _that_ what this is really about?" He nearly snarled, still quite calm but clearly beginning to lose a grip on his patient demeanor. After all, he hadn't planned on calling her to be snapped at to begin with, let alone guilt-tripped about his career; _she'd_ been the one who encouraged him to model in the first place.

" _Nooo_ , Stefan," Laura denied with a groan of frustration, attempting to preemptively snuff out the spark to an argument that she'd had no initial plans on starting. When it all came down to it, she simply didn't have the energy or the wits to fight _any_ battles right now, whether it was with him or with herself and so she tried to snatch the statement back before it permeated his mind for too long. "… Just … _nothing_ , nevermind. Forget I said anything," she conceded meekly, quickly calming her aggressive tone and pitifully wallowing in the awkwardly painful silence that lingered on the line.

What she didn't know was that the silence was being filled with brash speculation — that stormy feeling of suspicion Stefan had been ignoring the entire conversation casting formidable shadows on his initially innocent impressions of her behavior. Where he was sure she'd been joking about a 'killer headache' before … now, he wasn't so sure.

"Laura … you're really hung over, aren't you?" he asked, his tone accusing and disgruntled, completely disenchanted by the fact that she was continuing to fill the shoes of someone he didn't recognize anymore. In the beginning, he'd only wanted to hear her voice and let her know he adored her, but now he was at a crossroads — he didn't know _who_ this girl was on the phone because it sure as hell wasn't _his_ sweet, infallible Princess.

 _Sigh!_ With an exasperated slap of her palm against her forehead, Laura knew she was busted and while there was no reason to continue to deny it … she did. Vehemently and rapidly. "… _NOOO! Psshh_ , boy, you so crazy - _listen_ ," she rambled, attempting to extinguish the culpable fog of disgrace looming over her as the words flew from her mouth quicker than Stefan could process them, let alone properly respond. "I gotta go — I'm glad you landed safely; I'll call you later, okay? — Bye!"

" _Wait a minute_ , Laura —" _Click_.

… Her hand remained glued to the lowered receiver after quickly slamming it on the hook and she stared at it wide-eyed with anticipation, as if fearful that he would somehow leap through the phone at any second and give her a piece of his mind — a tongue-lashing she knew would be justified at this point. She barely caught the tail-end of his attempt to keep her on the line but she could tell by the hang time of the thick tension suffocating her that she'd somehow managed to piss off _Stefan Urquelle_ : a man who could slay a demon with poetry.

While disappointing him used to be an unbearable notion, she found herself desperately hoping that their awkward conversation would be enough of a deterrent to keep him from calling her again — at least for a few hours while she tried to tame her headache and come up with a decent lie to cover her tracks … and that musing alone was disturbing in its own right.

As if punished by some unseen force for her thoughts, the attempt to strategize her recovery only made her brain throb more aggressively. Convinced her eyeballs were seconds from popping out of their sockets from the pressure squeezing her temples, she simply surrendered to a profound sense of helplessness that flushed through her. Her eyelids squeezing shut, the tips of her fingers lifted to caress slow circles into the sides of her head. Contending a losing battle with her conscience, all she could do was pitifully condemn herself with a low, embittered moan, "Oh, _God._ If there's a Hell, I just booked myself a one-way ticket." As if serendipity forced her to accept her fate, she wondered curiously to herself: "I hope they have malls there. Or at least some aspirin …"

* * *

 _Boy … what a night._ What a week, in fact! The last few days had thrown Steve one unexpected curve-ball after another and while he should have been reeling from the craziness of it all, he actually couldn't remember the last time he woke up feeling this invigorated … black eye and all! As many times as he'd been beaten up in the past, this was first time he'd been clocked dead in his face, but he found himself relishing in the ache of his swollen eye.

He was no stranger to humiliation but even though he should have felt angry or discouraged, he regarded the battle scar as a memento of _love_ and he was quite proud of that. If it were up to him, he would have made sure it never healed again!

Not only did the shiner serve as a reminder to where his heart belonged, but it had him feeling more grateful than ever that his experiment had been a bust after all. Alas, even though the aches and swelling was worth it, tolerance for pain had never been his strong suit.

In the wake of his new-found confidence, he'd gotten the impulse to try a new outfit today, but when it came down to it, he looked like he'd gotten dressed in the dark. The pep in his step towards the refrigerator of the kitchen was as bright as the over-sized turquoise Hawaiian shirt he sported with matching shorts, a white visor cap cocked backwards on his head.

Grabbing a bag of peas out of the freezer, he removed his glasses in order to press the makeshift ice bag against the black and blue bruise, sighing with relief as the cold compression soothed the swelling.

It was around then that he heard footsteps in the stairwell, peering over his shoulder just in time to see Laura struggle through a slow, lethargic descent down the steps into the kitchen, clinging to the banister to keep herself from tipping over.

Even a shower and a change of clothes couldn't seem to get rid of the chirping that persisted in the recesses of her skull and she still felt pretty wasted. She had half the mind to stay in her room for the rest of the day but knew that Advil and some ice might be her only salvation. Submitting to the endless pounding against her temples, she was forced her to make her way into the kitchen in search of a remedy, only to spot Steve by the island counter with a pack of ice of his own … _crap._ She had every intention of avoiding him today but since luck hadn't been her friend all morning, she wasn't surprised that there were more unfortunate obstacles to overcome.

The memories of the previous night flooded back to her the moment her squinty gaze found him, waves of uncertainty chilling her bones. Having complicated the situation beyond a point of no return, she was still trying to somehow convince herself that the last month of her life had been nothing more than God handing her a raw deal.

She couldn't tell if the awkward drop of her stomach was because of anxiety or nausea. Quite honestly, she was more concerned about the fact that she looked and felt like death than the fact that she knew explaining her actions to Steve was unavoidable. That didn't mean she wasn't going to try...

Of course, she could have looked like the Grim Reaper himself and she still would have been the most gorgeous specimen known to Steve's heart. And it pattered madly in his rib cage the moment he saw her, finding her sluggishness endearing — it gave him a reason to want to pamper her. He perked with anticipation as he regarded her with stars in his eyes, secretly reliving the more pleasant moments of the night before as she reached the bottom step. "Morning, my little love basket."

"Not so loud, Steve …" Laura griped with a murmur as she struggled to keep her eyes peeled, instantly annoyed by the fact that she had to make five extra paces to reach the counter. "…Who moved the sink? It used to be a lot closer."

Steve certainly knew the feeling and he couldn't help but swell with sympathy as he watched her reluctantly drag herself to the sink to grab a glass of water. "Looks like Miss Missy-Miss is gettin' a visit from Mister Hangover." He'd only been accidentally drunk himself once in his entire life and out of every crazy thing that happened, the only part he remembered in detail was the morning after — he had been a walking ache for rest of the day.

"Oh, my Lord ... what, are you off to a Luau?" she asked with knitted brows after taking her first real look at him since she entered the kitchen, the bizarre outfit loud enough to stop her in her tracks. More than that, it gave her an opportunity to attempt to change the subject. And for a second there, it worked.

"Oh, I still haven't locked in my new look," Steve replied matter-of-factly as the focus switched to his get-up. "Surfer dude! Whaddya think?" He hopped with arms outstretched, mimicking a surfer riding a wave. It'd been a mission of his all month to follow through with a dramatic makeover in hopes he'd get her attention but so far, her only opinion had been disapproval of his fashion sense.

"…I think you're gonna make me blow chunks," she jested dryly, though with the way her stomach was already churning the stale alcohol stinging her gut, she was only half-joking. The more he tried to change himself, the more she realized she preferred his nerdy look to the circus costumes he tended to pick out.

"Eh.." Steve uttered with a dismissive shrug. As much as he wanted to toil over his wardrobe choices, there was a much more _curious_ subject just hanging in the air, waiting to be snatched and he seized the moment. "Laura, what's gotten into you lately? I don't think you've ever had a drink in your life! Last night, you turned into the St. Pauli Girl," he blurted eagerly, slightly maddened by a slew of unanswered questions clouding his mind.

Although she'd been hoping he would fall for her attempt to fly by the subject of her recent conduct, a part of her was glad he asked. Since the auction, her inner turmoil had left her emotionally isolated. Ironically, Steve had always been the only one she could talk to when she lost sight of everything, even when he was the object of her anxiety - addressing his question wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be. "I've been sneaking out of the house, breaking my curfew ... it's like lately I'm somebody I don't even know," she confessed softly, baffled by these impulsive tendencies that felt so foreign to her.

"I can relate. I'm there, too," he replied, briefly looking down at his outfit and deciding in that moment that he probably needed stronger glasses; he could never seem to get an ensemble _quite_ right. The older he got, the more he realized why he had been tossed in garbage cans for so many years. "I guess we're just trying to find ourselves."

"I know that's right." And _that_ was why, Laura realized, it was so easy to talk to him: he never went the extra mile to ridicule her, even when the merit was glaringly obvious. It had been a while since they'd actually had a face-to-face conversation — _sober_ , that is — considering how skilled she'd become in dodging him, but she was suddenly finding his company incredibly soothing. She couldn't even tell Max some of the things Steve managed to get out of her.

Sensing the grogginess still clouding over her as she dragged herself towards the kitchen table, Steve was instantly compelled to try and make her feel better. "Y'know, Laura ..." he perked as he buzzed behind her like a bee to honey and took a seat next to her. "If you ever need anybody to talk to you or a pair of broad shoulders to lay your burdens on ... I'm always available."

She really wished it were that simple. If it were, she would gladly hand off a burden of this magnitude. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized he probably already had carried the same burden for most of his life ... and here he was offering to take on even more, just for her.

Having made a point to stop treating him like the scum beneath her shoes - which had become incredibly easy over the past month - she offered a tired smile and patted his forearm graciously. "Thank you, Steve. I really appreciate that," she said, relieved that he seemed to let the matter of last night go. But of course, as per the trend of the day, her relief was short-lived.

"And I'm ... also available if ... you'd like to ... pick up where we left off last night ..." Steve uttered tentatively as he sheepishly addressed the pink elephant in the room, trying his best not to get his tongue caught in his throat. One would think after years of being the aggressor in any type of interaction between them, it would be easy to demand answers but he'd been hoping she would bring it up first.

 _And there it is..._ Laura thought to herself, having anticipated the moment he'd _go there_ since she came down those stairs. And just when her headache finally seemed to subside, it rushed back full-force as if to alarm her of what she stood to lose if she surrendered to the truth in that moment. If there were ever a time to pretend nothing ever happened, she didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity and the impulse to deny, deny, _deny_ hit her like a ton of bricks. "...What are you talking about?" she said with a knit of her brows, feigning confusion.

Blink _... She's kidding, right?_ He'd almost been sure she'd own up to it considering _she_ had been the aggressor and in the process, inadvertently made his wildest dream come true. With her birthday gift, her kissing him all willy-nilly, all those wonderful things she told him... it all made him extremely hopeful because to him, there was an undeniable pattern emerging here.

But in the wake of her denial, he felt all of the hopes he'd accumulated since yesterday begin to slip through his fingers like everything else he managed to get his hands on and he found himself desperately trying to jog her memory. "Don't you remember? Last night, after the party? When you planted that big, wet one on me…?" Like, how could anyone forget kissing him? _Steve Urkel?_ Even _he_ knew the chances were a million to one just based on the merit that _nobody_ wanted to kiss him ... except Myra, of course.

"Uh, Steve, I _was_ drunk last night," she admitted, but she already knew that was about all she was ready to own up to since it was the perfect alibi for her denial. The fear of losing his friendship and Stefan's trust became incredibly real in that moment and the pressure of those consequences buried any chance for her conscience to redeem itself. Some lines just weren't meant to be crossed and she had to draw it back in the sand before it was too late; the whole thing had been one, big foolish mistake. "But I didn't plant anything big or wet anywhere _near_ you …"

"Oh-oh-oh, yes you did!" he insisted earnestly, momentarily captivated by the memory of her lips against his as he relived the moment. "Why ... you laid a kiss on me that ... that singed my nostril hairs!" As a matter of fact, his nostril hairs were still tingling! As far as he was concerned, she had tipped the scale and even though she had been wasted, he didn't think it was unfair to assume her true feelings had been hiding beneath that liquid courage all along. "The kinda kiss that ... changes things forever between you and me ..."

 _Oh, Lord... I want to die now_. She should have expected him to push it but the more he insisted, the more she squirmed in her seat. "Steve..." she resisted with a cringe. The uncomfortable utter came off as confusion or even repulsion but deep down, it was a glaring fear that he was onto to her dark little secret.

"Oh now, _c'mon_ , Laura!" he cried in exasperation, clinging to the final threads of hope that were quickly unraveling. He'd been rejected by her plenty of times but for some reason, this time around completely blindsided him. "You're honestly saying that you don't remember that kiss?!" He didn't want to believe that she had actually been _that_ drunk. It was pretty depressing to think that she was only willing to extend the affection he constantly craved from her under the fog of inebriation.

The more she denied what happened, the heavier the guilt weighed in her gut and when it was clear she wasn't convincing him, she knew the only option was to flee. Not only to avoid his grilling, but also to evade the pain of having to see that look of crushing disappointment on his face ... the one that always made her surrender to her conscience and she just couldn't afford to this time. She resisted the urge to dash for stairs and casually lifted from her seat instead, her hand sympathetically squeezing his shoulder as she made her way from the table.

It really hadn't been her intention to mislead him or hurt his feelings, unlike many countless times in the past. Now, it was as if every mean thing she'd ever said to him finally caught up with her to bite her in the rear and she suddenly wished she could take the last fourteen years of insults back. "… Sorry, babes," she murmured with remorse, any energy she'd found in the last few minutes completely draining from her, along with the esteem she used to have for her moral fortitude. Discouraged, she dragged herself back towards the stairs, snatching the bag of peas and smacking them against her aching forehead in disdain for herself.

And just like that, Steve's optimism deflated quicker than a blown-out tire, his ailing heart bursting open in process. He was starting to see another pattern emerging as well: that he was a bigger idiot than he thought he was. But he _had_ to be sure. "Well, then … things aren't different between you and me?" he asked meekly one final time, hoping repeating it enough would somehow change her mind.

Of course he had to ask again. And Laura knew him well enough to know the only way to convince him was to spell it out for him ... clearly and succinctly, even if it stung him to the core. And so, without hesitation, she betrayed the truth once again and turned to him, insisting apathetically, "Steve, trust me ... things are exactly the same between us." With little strength to regard him further, she made her way up the stairs, abandoning him and his feelings in bleak isolation.

The dejection that fell over him as she disappeared in the stairwell almost left him breathless as his head fell into his hands, sinking into absolute misery as he whimpered pitifully to himself, "That kiss was the greatest moment of my life … and Laura doesn't even remember it …" So much for new beginnings. And now not only was he now back to square one ... he had a shiner to go with his humiliation. _Wonderful. Nice going, Urkel._

Little did he know, the moment Laura rounded the corner of the stairwell and was safe from his scrutiny, the tears she'd been choking on all morning safely fell against the cold bag that she'd buried her face into. When she was sure that she was out of earshot, tears turned into weeps - she rushed to her room before the soundtrack of her hungover self-pity was detected, letting her pillow muffle her sobs. She felt like the worst friend and girlfriend on the planet ... this love thing? She was failing at it...

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 10..._


	10. Double Vision

_**CHAPTER 10: Double Vision**_

 _Summary: Unable to shake the provocative memories of her wild night, Laura drops many bombs on Max about her true feelings._

* * *

Laura stared into space with a contemplative furrow of her brow as she sat before Max, her fingers pensively fidgeting with her bottom lip as her best friend's attempts to get her attention flew right over her head. And the introspective silence didn't make for a very engaging conversation. "...Did I tell you that Will Smith asked me to marry him?" Max quipped as she leaned over Laura's shoulder to gauge whether or not she'd died sitting up or something.

Finally fishing eye contact out of her, she abandoned her efforts to fix Laura's hair in order to pull up a chair beside her and try to dig her out of her own head. "Hey. This is only a conversation if two people talk."

It hadn't been Laura's intention to ignore her but the unforgiving thoughts in her head were louder than a crowded stadium, not to mention that her battle with Mister Hangover had her still feeling like she was underwater. "…I'm sorry," she said contritely as she finally landed back to earth. "It's ... just, something's been on my mind for the last couple of days," she revealed tentatively, straightening from her slouch in the chair as the pensive fog cleared to allow clarity of thought.

"Oooh, that patch of small hair on your chin?" Max quipped with a grin, hoping to break the solemn tension Laura had induced. She hadn't seen her friend this out of it in a while and judging by the spectacle she witnessed last night, she had a right to be a little concerned.

Laura swatted away her teasing, even though she couldn't help lifting her fingers to her chin to make sure it just a joke. "Girl!" A hairy chin was all she needed right now!

She was still rather hesitant about telling Max how deeply complicated her love life had become, knowing that 'foot-in-mouth' backlash was imminent … but she had to tell _somebody!_ It was already a secret that was so much more difficult to maintain than she thought. As evidenced by the bullets she dodged this morning, she knew the scandal was on the brink of exposure. But despite how juicy it was, she knew Max was the only one who she could trust to keep it hush-hush …possibly because she suspected she wouldn't even believe her.

"It's just that ...ever since Steve started improving himself, I'm finding myself ...sorta … _kinda …_ well …y'know!" The closer she got to spilling the beans, the more she couldn't believe the words were actually rolling off her tongue to begin with — it just seemed incredibly absurd, even now. She squirmed sheepishly as if to quell the unease that came with pretty much admitting everything she thought she knew about her entire worldview was completely wrong. " ... _Attracted_ to him…"

Her caramel cheeks flushed hot red and a team of acrobatic butterflies invaded her gut the moment she surrendered to her twisted reality. But to her surprise, the uncomfortable quivers of her heart weren't the result of embarrassment at all. It was actually a very familiar, more inviting sensation — more like an aggressive case of the school-girl jitters, which felt extremely bizarre considering who was on the other end of that crush.

Laura could tell immediately by the deadpan expression on Max's face that she thought that statement was complete bull — so funny, she forgot to laugh. But when Laura didn't laugh either, a brow quirked dubiously and like a stoic crime detective, Max grabbed the hairspray and examined the label for evidence that maybe she had sprayed a little too much of it on her head. "… This explains it! 'Can cause brain damage.'"

Laura wasn't surprised by her skepticism …if anything, she figured she might as well get used to all the shock that was bound to accompany such a scandal. But now that her secret had wings, she suddenly caught an urge to let the truth take flight if only to get it off of her chest. And who knows? Maybe her best friend could offer a little insight, but it probably would have helped to put it all into context first. "Nah, I'm serious! Remember last night when Steve said I kissed him? And I told him I didn't remember because I was too drunk?"

"Yeah...?" Max confirmed skeptically, becoming more and more displaced by the direction this conversation was going.

"…Well, I wasn't _that_ drunk," Laura confessed barely above a whisper, timidly casting Max a sidelong glance in time to see her jaw drop to the floor in astonishment as a silent gasp escaped her.

Somehow, of all of the secrets she had told her throughout the years, this one in particular sparked perplexity beyond her ability to rationally process it. But when it was clear Laura wasn't joking, Max eagerly interrogated her in search for clarity. "You remember the kiss?"

As bad as she still felt for lying to Steve about blacking out, Laura couldn't help the sheepish smirk that faintly tugged at her lips as said memory flooded back to her with crystal clarity. Everything from the surprisingly alluring scent of his cologne to the pliable texture of his lips came into focus in that moment. "Oh, yeah …"

"And you _liked_ it?" Max demanded, twice as incredulous as before, scowling with disbelief.

That was when Laura allowed herself to recall what she felt the moment she abandoned her inhibitions and took that fated, intoxicated leap into the unknown. And she concluded that it was a similar feeling that she had when she'd kissed him at the auction.

For those brief few seconds that her lips touched his, Steve Urkel wasn't the aggravating, socially-inept nerd she'd painted him to be all of these years … _at all._ The contradiction was baffling enough to throw anybody privy to his less-than-stellar reputation for a loop. " _Ohhh, yeeaah_ …" she admitted with a drawl of satisfaction as her gaze wandered wistfully, verifying to Max that she had completely fallen off her rocker.

Max had listened to her bestie complain about Steve for as long as she knew her. To hear her imply that she had the hots for him after all of this time sounded like something straight out of the Twilight Zone. She parroted her skepticism again to be doubly sure this wasn't joke. "Girl, you actually _like Steve Urkel_?"

Laura paused to seriously consider that question. It had been the one question disturbing her sanity all month and she always circled back to the same conclusion, no matter how awkward and distressing the implications seemed. "… I'm starting to ..." And she wasn't sure if that classified her dilemma as a crisis or not.

But she realized that saying it out-loud made the reality of her feelings that much more poignant and far less frightening. Her stomach was slowly untying the knots it had created out of fear, allowing room for that eerie feeling of infatuation to pulse within her and become more than just a fluke she was trying to avoid. It seemed unstoppable at this point and the only way to contend with it and possibly get rid of it, she realized, was to acknowledge it.

Max's first impulse was to laugh heartily at the irony, but before the humor could hit her, skepticism returned to hit her twice as hard. Giving Laura the side-eye, the corner of her mouth twisted dubiously. "Okay. Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

"Believe me, I _wish_ I was an imposter," Laura said with conviction, even though she knew prayer and passion wasn't enough to make it so.

"In that case …" Max quickly popped up to her feet as if a fire had just broken out in the room. "I gotta find a straight jacket because we have a new kind of crazy on the loose!" Feigning panic, she comically scurried towards the door to the living room, pushing it open quickly to holler through it, "Somebody call 911!"

"No-no-no! _Shhhhhh!"_ Laura shushed and hissed frantically, rapidly standing to sprint behind her so that she could claw at her wrist and yank her away from the door. "Keep your voice down!" Afraid the satirical outburst attracted attention, she quickly poked her head through the door to make sure no one came running before turning to Max with a scowl. '911' was not the phrase to scream without consequence in a cop's house after all. Surrendering to her embarrassment, she flailed in defeat and shook her head pitifully to condemn her big mouth. "Jeez Max, _see?_ — I knew I shouldn't have said anything; the paparazzi can keep a secret better than you can."

Tickled pink, Max continued to grin and giggle with delight but she noted Laura's obvious distress towards her amusement and so she offered reassurance, a hand lifting to caress her shoulder apologetically. "Aww, c'mon girl, I'm just kidding. It's not _that_ bad. I dated _Waldo_ , for Christ-sakes."

…Well, Laura couldn't argue with that. Pointing out this simple fact was enough to quell her embarrassment … for the time being. "…You got a point there." With a heavy sigh, she meandered pensively back to the chair to plop back down, Max close behind as she retook the seat next to her and leaned in to continue her interrogation.

"You gotta admit though, this is _insane_! You're the one that said, and I quote: 'The day I like Cheese Boy is the day Lucifer gives out free skiing lessons.' End quote." She shot Laura another dubious brow-raise as she pulled contradictions from the horse's mouth.

"… Yup! And I _definitely_ signed up for one yesterday," Laura confirmed with a dismal shrug, still slightly resistant to the road to acceptance — as Max had just said, it was hard to make sense of something that seemed far beyond the realm of possibility in her world.

As a result, there were many questions that remained unanswered. Brows knitted in confusion, Max addressed the ultimate discrepancy of the entire dilemma. "But … didn't you say kissing him was a nightmare?"

Well, the answer to that one was very simple. "… I lied."

Max's jaw dropped again, impressed by her tact in that regard — she would have never guessed! "Wow _, you're good._ "

Reluctantly, Laura turned towards her and leaned in as well in order to contain the secret even more than the four walls of the kitchen could, offering a low murmur, "And not only that … wanna know the creepiest … weirdest ... _scariest_ part about it?" That was when the deepest of truths echoed clearly in her mind and the thought stopped just short of her parted lips as she balked. Her eyes quickly sized up her friend — who was practically drooling for gossip — still somewhat skeptical that she wasn't the most truth worthy person to talk to. Swatting a hand dismissively, she relaxed against the brace of the chair once again in surrender. "… Oh, nevermind, you're just gonna laugh at me."

"I won't laugh, I swear!" Max bolstered quickly before admitting with a wicked grin, "...But I can't promise I won't snicker softly behind your back."

 _Sigh._ Laura rolled her eyes impatiently but she just shook her head; there was really no use in expecting anything less than snickers once the whole world knew. "But you _do_ promise to take this the grave, right?" she spat firmly, markedly demanding loyalty with a shaky index finger. "In fact, you better take it _beyond_ the grave — if the Good Lord himself asks you what happened, you gotta promise to plead the fifth, even if it means blowing your ticket to the heavenly gates."

Sounded like a good deal to her! If it meant getting the juice, she was all for it! "Cross my heart and hope to live a long life as a witness to this miracle," she promised solemnly as her finger marked an X over her chest. "Now spill it, you."

 _Oh, God_ … Did she really want to say this? Even if she wanted to just cut the conversation short right there, she knew it was a little too late at this point either way — all she could do was hope that Max kept her word. Her shoulders sunk as she exhaled a long, tormented breath before finally spilling the beans, her voice barely above a whisper. "Well … to be honest? … I don't think I've ever been kissed the way Steve kisses me."

 _GASP!_ If Laura got a dollar for every time she'd made Max pick her own jaw off the floor within the last few minutes, she'd be rich by now. What was worse was that her friend's shock only served to solidify the seriousness of her dilemma. "…Not even Stefan…?"

Max expected her to be completely at odds with that question, but she was served yet another shocker when she took note of the fact that Laura didn't even hesitate to answer. "Not even close."

 _Whooooaa_ … Max froze in disbelief as she stared in deadpan silence at her for several tense seconds, pausing to take a long, suspicious look around the kitchen as she plunged back into her skepticism before turning to Laura again with a quirked brow. "…Are we on Candid Camera?"

If only her life were that easy. Laura wouldn't have minded if a camera crew popped out and told her she was dreaming right now. Unfortunately, any road down denial only seemed to put the truth directly in her escape path. "I'm afraid not."

"Wait-wait-wait- _waaaaaiiit_ one darn minute here," Max interjected eagerly with a scowl of disbelief as she paused to allowed the irony of it all to process — it was almost like being told the Earth was actually flat or that 'blue' wasn't a real color; she _had_ to make sure she'd heard her right one more time! "You mean to tell me that not only do you have the hots for Steve, but that he's actually _the best kisser_?!" Surely Laura would come to her senses once she heard it put that way … right?

 _Wrong!_ "… I can't seem to get my mind off of his lips, so he's doing _something_ right, that's for sure," she admitted meekly, her shoulders rising to her ears in shame as her cheeks reddened, the weight of the matter sinking in completely. Max was right … she'd lost her mind for sure.

"You. Me. Mall. Now!" Max demanded firmly and abruptly rose to her feet. Grabbing Laura's wrist, she yanked her from the chair and dragged her towards the front door with conviction.

"What? Why?" Laura asked, confused by Max's sudden urge to shop but she wasn't necessarily surprised — the mall had always been their favorite place to gossip the day away and those intentions were confirmed as Max paused to turn towards her, her brows raised in wide-eyed anticipation.

"Why do you think, I _need_ details! … And a new jacket and some shoes so we might as well kill three birds with one stone." She gave a cavalier shrug before continuing to drag Laura out of the back door. And Max's giddy drilling began the moment they made it to the garage where Laura's car was parked. "I want to know _everything_. Tell me about the kiss. How did it happen? What was it like?"

"Oh, Lord … _well_ …" It was then that Laura allowed herself to fully relive the memory without shame, unable to stop the faint smirk that sprung to her lips as a soothing revelation occurred to her, for the first time overcoming the fear that plagued her with self-doubts for the last month. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but … it was kind of amazing …"

* * *

 _ **LAST NIGHT…**_

Winded and still slightly dizzy from being sucker-punched, Steve struggled to sit up after clumsily depositing Laura's plastered, dead weight onto the cushions, pausing to gather his strength as he unraveled his arms from her with the intention of getting right back up to start the second leg of his rescue mission. "All right ... now. What you need is a visit to nappy-land. After that, you'll wake up in sober-land. C'mon, let's get you upstairs." Pushing against the couch to stand, he barely got enough leverage before he felt his arm being abruptly yanked, plopping back onto the couch with a wild flail of shock and suddenly finding himself nose-to-nose with her, completely caught off guard by the uncharacteristic desire to be this close to him. But he didn't dare protest — he could only stare at her like a deer in headlights.

And the first thing he noticed was that she was very generous with her hands. His eyes inconspicuously scrutinized them several times during their exchange, almost in shock that she was crossing her own boundaries as he watched her offer up subtle caress after caress along his arm, across the back of his hand, and even a brush or two against his knee, all the while hypnotizing him with those alluring brown eyes as she began to slur. "You know what? Steve. You are _such_ a good friend."

 _Whaaaa?_ Where he'd been halfway expecting an insult, he'd gotten the most humbling compliment instead — something was amiss and he quickly concluded that it must've been the liquor talking. In fact, her unexplainable tolerance for him sparked a moment's concern and he figured he'd better get her to bed. Now. "… Oh, thank you. You're a good friend, too," was his cavalier reply, having every intention on cutting their conversation short and trying to stand again, only to be gridlocked as Laura applied more effort into making sure he heard her.

"No-no, I'm serious." Before he knew it, his cheeks were being squeezed within her grip as she forcibly grabbed his jaw in order to tug him in closer and slur at him, "You always cared for me and y'know what? I _appreciate_ it ... you know that?"

"I know you do - _oof_ " he replied just as her hand landed on his cheek with two gracious, albeit _heavy-handed_ , love taps. Wow, this was the most this woman had ever touched him in such a short period of time! As much as he would have taken advantage of such utter compliance any other night, he had way too much respect for her to influence her intoxicated state in any way. Tonguing his sore cheek as she released his jaw, he tried once again to get her to get with the program. "Now, upsy-daisy."

Despite his tainted reputation as the town screw-up, Steve certainly felt like Mister Fix-It today and he couldn't help but feel like a total stud for stepping up. He wouldn't have guessed in a million years that Laura would ever need him to save her from herself in such a way. One of the things he admired about her was that she was extremely conscientious, sometimes to a fault. Seeing her this wasted was certainly a first and while he should have been disappointed in her for letting peer pressure rule the night, all he cared about was that she made it out of that animal house unscathed.

What neither of them seemed to know was that the Deltas had a sure-fire formula for how their parties turned up and apparently, it worked like a charm every time. The word on campus was that they would pinpoint the most gullible girl and deliberately introduce her to many, _many_ drinks, the next always stronger than the last. Before long, the chosen sucker would become the party's out-of-control centerpiece and everyone else would follow suit. Laura had been that prime target of the night and she didn't even realize it.

It explained why Max hadn't been _half_ as tipsy as Laura was; she'd only had two beers … versus Laura's three or four, plus the copious amounts of rogue liquor they snuck into her cup during each round of Quarters she played. The unforgivable mix of different alcohol in such a short amount of time explained the wild child spirit that made an unceremonious appearance tonight.

Good thing he showed up when he did or Laura could have easily been taken advantage of by the creep who clocked him in the eye for denying him the luxury of bringing her _and_ the party 'to his room'. He couldn't help but wonder what the heck she was doing there around all of those piranhas in the first place — it was so out of character for her.

Despite being completely tanked, Laura was still cognizant to know that she was enjoying this newfound wonder of discarded inhibitions that unlocked her from her mental cage. She found herself reveling in whatever magical powers alcohol had that made her completely forget everything that had been raging anxiety through her bones for the past few weeks. In fact, she was enjoying it so much that it was also incredibly easy to forget that this weird crush she had on Steve was not just some dormant, twisted fantasy. Now that he was within arm's reach of her, it was hard to deny the swell of desire that made her gut quiver, in a way that would have her thirteen-year-old self gagging and running for the hills.

He'd once again proven his loyalty to her by scooping her out of a precarious situation with zero judgment in his heart for her, expecting absolutely nothing in return. There was always this scathing pressure to conform to everyone else's expectations — her parents, her brother, her friends … even Stefan. But not Steve. Acknowledgement of his unconditional devotion sparked the motivation to finally let him know after so many years how much she really appreciated it. He made her feel like he was the only one in the world who accepted every flawed thing about her … was it really that hard to do the same in return? The impulse to thank him became so strong, she couldn't have contained herself if she wanted to. And at that moment, she really didn't want to.

So she was persistent in her urging, grabbing his hand to keep him planted next to her so that he could know without a shadow of a doubt that it hadn't been her intention to get him beat up this time. And just the fact that he took that knuckle sandwich for her was a turn-on in its own right. "You know what, Steve? I am so sorry about your eye."

Steve, on the other hand, seemed to completely fly by the implications of her aggressive efforts to thank him. As far as he was concerned, getting her home safely was just another day of sweeping up messes behind him — her safety had always been his main concern and priority. "Oh, no problemo. Actually, my vision is getting better. I'm only seeing double now!"

Even though the room was spinning more and more out of control, he seemed to sharpen in her blurred field of focus and it was as if her perception of him had completely collapsed in on itself. Where she once saw a lost, uncouth, annoying, nerdy little boy before, she suddenly felt as if she were sitting next to the smartest, funniest, most attractive guy she'd ever met… and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why!

As her half-lidded gaze scrutinized the blackened swell of his eye, she guessed that the only reason it was hard for girls to appreciate his looks was because of his clownishly large glasses; him and Stefan were nearly identical after all … or it could have been that she was so drunk that she was suffering from a mean case of the 'beer goggles'.

Either way, she was itching to find out for herself just how right she was about her newfound outlook … or rather, whether or not she'd simply been wrong about him this whole time. "Well, I know what'll help ..." Fearlessly, she reached up to unveil his face, gently grabbing the frames of his glasses and letting them hang around his neck. Steve blinked in confusion, not altogether sure what was happening right now but he didn't dare stop her!

The next thing he knew, he was being drawn closer to her by a guidance of her hand against the back of his head, his heart thundering madly against his chest the moment he felt her lips press against his good eye, immediately free-falling out of his eagerness to tuck her in … he suddenly forgot he even had legs to stand. And he had no idea what to think … because he _couldn't_ think; she'd turned his mind into mush in a matter of milliseconds. "… Oh _._.." _Whoa mama…_

"How does that feel?" she asked tenderly, unable to help herself as her fingers gently grazed against the abrasive buzz of his haircut as she paused to gauge his reaction.

He couldn't explain why after all this time of chasing her with little to no progress, she was suddenly all over him with almost no effort on his part. Though he was still ambivalent about her intentions, Steve couldn't deny that the pulses of electricity shooting up his spine wasn't the result of wishful thinking, nor was it was result of one of his makeshift potions — ironically, the alcohol flowing through her veins was proving to be more powerful than any love potion he'd ever created! He tentatively rolled with the punches. "Great ... only it's the swollen ... _black and blue_ eye," he pointed out sheepishly to test the waters, wondering how much of this fleeting, blind luck was actually on his side tonight.

And the future seemed a whole lot brighter the moment she obliged him with another affectionate kiss against his swollen eye, pulling back to pierce his soul with a gaze that he could only describe as … sultry. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that those dreamy eyes of hers were smoldering with passion. As a result, it became harder and harder take his own hopeful eyes off of her. "Better?"

Was she kidding?! As far as he was concerned, she'd just proposed to him! "Much!" he perked with delight, still steeped in his uncertainty but allowing himself to savor the rare affection — in the back of his mind, he knew it was a short-lived blessing.

… Or was it? In true unpredictable form, he was once again graced with another kiss he didn't have to beg her for — this time against his forehead, each tender show of affection bewildering him more drastically than the last. She was just full of surprises tonight! "… Oh _yeah_ …" he mused with a drawl of satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with awe as he stared at her like she was a pearl unicorn. "Pain's _alllll gone_ now …"

One thing Laura would come to learn the hard way about alcohol: it definitely didn't care about consequences. Any other night, she'd be fishing for the most reasonable excuse to invalidate her feelings and skillfully redirect them elsewhere. But right now, her inebriation simply didn't allow the stubbornness of her mind to rule over her pounding heart — she followed a powerful impulse that overwhelmed any inhibitions that would rationally stop her.

As if compelled by some mysterious magnetic force, she found herself slowly leaning in to quell a burning curiosity about him that she hadn't been able to quiet in her mind since the auction, consciously ignoring the tiny, sober voice in her head warning her that once she followed through, there was no turning back.

Before he even realized what was happening, Steve found himself being reigned closer to her once again with a guiding tug of her fingertips beneath his chin and he remained in stunned denial until it was clear she wasn't looking to pamper another wound; he rarely encountered miracles of this magnitude! But when her lips delicately captured his in a passionate, yearning kiss that lingered far longer than any pity kiss ever had — with far more tongue action than she'd ever allowed in the past — he knew he wasn't in Kansas anymore. His heart pounded in his chest so violently, he was convinced he would choke on it.

Laura's suspicions about her feelings were confirmed the moment she succumbed to the urge to do what she had wanted to do for weeks now. She wasn't sure if the liquor was to blame but now that she'd finally kissed him again, she was finding it extremely difficult to stop and the longer their lips touched, the dizzier she became. By the time she reluctantly withdrew from him, she felt like she'd been surfing on a cloud — he wasn't the only one who was seeing double tonight.

As for Steve … he might as well have died and been resurrected. Through heavy, hypnotized lids, he was speechless as they both settled into a deep trance of mutual satisfaction. Their eyes met innocently, rewarding one another with soft, breathless smiles … _did that really just happen?_

Unfortunately, there was little time to find out since the moment was short-lived. Within seconds of their lips parting, the disorienting spin of the room quickened until Laura's dizziness abruptly overcame her. With no warning whatsoever, she fainted with a dramatic plop against the cushions as the alcohol saturated her blood.

Astonished by the most stunning wave of euphoria he'd ever experienced in his life, it didn't take long for Steve's low tolerance to shock to snatch his consciousness as well. Becoming extremely light-headed in an instant, he followed his love dove to nappy-land — his eyes rolled in the back of his head and his scrawny frame went limp like a fish out of water, sliding off of the couch and melting into the rug.

* * *

" _No waaaay!_ " was all Max could really say, gaping in excitement from the passenger seat of Laura's car as she listened to her account of the most unlikely event in human history — she couldn't believe what she was hearing right now!

Apparently the madness hadn't ended there. Laura cast her friend a guilty side-long glance as she drove into the parking lot of the mall and she assured her with a guilty murmur, "Oh, it gets better…"

"There's more?!" Max squeaked, her voice at least an octave higher.

With a pitiful nod of her head, Laura's hand slowly lifted for a face-palm, admitting through a heavy sigh, "…Much more."

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 11_


	11. Heart of the Matter

_**CHAPTER 11: Heart of the Matter**_

 _Summary: The suspense thickens as Laura gives Max more juicy details of her unlikely encounter with Steve._

* * *

"Girl! Okay, hold up ... let's rewind for a second," Max demanded restlessly as she and Laura traversed the entry corridor of the mall, warily strolling shoulder-to-shoulder as they gossiped with hushed voices, leaning against each other in order to contain the covert scandal that had become Laura's love life. And at this point, Max had questions. A lot of them. "When did all this start anyway? _How?_ "

Laura's hawk-eyed gaze was watchful and became shifty whenever they brushed past other mall patrons. When a group of students from school she recognized appeared out of nowhere and began walking towards them from the opposite direction, she quickly averted her eyes and grabbed Max's arm in order to careen her into the closest clothing store — she suddenly wished that they'd gone to the park instead.

Looking over her shoulder to ensure that there were no open ears nearby, she bashfully addressed her question. "You remember what happened at the auction, right…?" she asked under her breath as they began to aimlessly browse a rack of shirts if only to feign an interest in shopping. She could care less about clothes right now.

"Of course! The whole campus rememb —" Max began, only to pause as a realization dawned on her. For some reason, she had the impression that this 'crush' was a brand new venture as of the previous night but to find out it was a beast she'd been fighting ever since that night at the auction, it explained a lot! …Including Laura's recent lapses in judgment over other areas in her life. "… _Ohhhh_ …" Her brows perked and her head canted in surprise as she sized her up. She had no idea her bestie was this sneaky!

"Yeah. That's _when_ ," Laura confirmed with a rueful nod of her head. "As far as 'how'? …That's the part I'm still trying to figure out. And last night didn't help matters much."

"But what else could've happened? Didn't you pass out?" Max asked in confusion as she continued to sift through the rack, pulling out a couple of blouses and a leather jacket to try on.

Laura, on the other hand, had given up the facade of shopping the moment memories of the previous night flooded the peripherals of her mind, distracting her from any hope of grounding herself. "I did. But it was about midnight when I woke up and I saw Steve all curled up on the floor, sleeping like a baby," she recounted in a hushed tone as she opted to lean on the rack instead of looking through it, residuals of her hangover still sending dull waves of pain through her skull.

All she could do at this point was surrender to the fact that no matter how many times she tried to wake up from it, this bizarre nightmare had no plans on ending anytime soon. She had to wonder just how much of it she could have really avoided from the start. "I was still really wasted and I got so dizzy and nauseous that I puked all over his shoes. That's when he woke up."

"Oh _God_ , _gross_ …" Max gasped softly, disturbed by the ghastly visuals that came to mind, her face twisted in disgust. "That had to have been pretty awkward."

"To _Steve_?" Laura scoffed dramatically and swatted the air in dismissal. "Pfft! Girl, _puh-leeease_ — he thought it was endearing."

"…Oh yeah …" Max replied dryly, her repulsion subdued by the fact that you couldn't really expect anything less from Steve. This was a guy that would happily collect insect feces out of sewer swamps if given the chance… she couldn't help but further question Laura's sanity, but she kept her concerns to herself; it wasn't her place to judge. "Forgot who we were talking about here for a second."

"He was really sweet about it, though," Laura insisted, completely unaware of the introspective smile that involuntarily graced her features as she rehashed the memory — it was as if she hadn't fully tapped into the fact that Steve was even capable of making her smile in a way that wasn't forced … and yet, between her tears for fears over the horror of the situation, she'd also catch herself grinning like a whimsical idiot when certain thoughts of him made it into her daydreams. "He helped me to the bathroom and even held my hair while I prayed to the porcelain genie … even though he kept dropping the toilet lid on my head."

" _Whoa_ , hold the phone!" Max exclaimed in disbelief as she finally abandoned the rack in order to spin in Laura's direction, who vigorously shushed her when the volume of their conversation exceeded safe levels, turning a few heads in the store. Catching herself, she leaned into her friend and returned to her library voice, though the dismay in her whispered tone steadily crescendoed into sarcasm. "…You let him _hold your hair?_ After you _threw up_ _on_ him? Why not just offer to bear his children?"

The glaring ridicule was certainly justified for a couple of reasons. For one, the thought of Steve even touching her used to make Laura's stomach turn. Once upon a time, she would have rather chewed razor blades. Secondly, and most importantly … _no one_ wanted to hurl all over the person they're crushing on! "I was toasted, Max. It's not like I had much of a choice!" she rebutted in distress, though she failed to admit that if she _did_ have a choice, it probably would have happened the same way.

"I thought you weren't _'that drunk'?_ " Max retorted with a giggle, echoing Laura's words and voice to prove a point.

"Only to imply that I _remembered what happened_ — I never said I wasn't two sips away from rehab." Her logic made sense to her: it was either aim for his shoes or the couch and she really didn't want to have to explain that one to her parents, who were still oblivious that she ever went out last night, let alone got filthy drunk. But she did take responsibility for the fact that she had everything to do with how it unraveled in the first place and she owned up to it with a dismal shrug. "It's true: Steve jumps the gun _a lot_ but…he had a _really_ good reason for thinking things had really changed between us this time…"

"As if kissing him like he was Denzel Washington wasn't enough!" Max asserted scornfully with a murmur as she brushed past her towards the changing room with her chosen blouses in tow. Laura saw it as a perfect opportunity to hide and followed behind her with the first random shirt she could yank off the rack and they both disappeared behind the curtains of the changing closets, their conversation carrying on softly across stalls.

"That's just the half of it. He helped me to my bedroom and before I could help myself, all these crazy emotions starting coming up and all these …. _things_ just started flying out of my big, dumb mouth. It was like I caught flap jaw — I just couldn't _shut uuuuup_."

"Oh my _God, Laura_..." Max buzzed with excitement, practically drooling for details. How could it possibly get any juicier than this?! "... _What did you say to him?_ "

* * *

 _ **LAST NIGHT, AFTER MIDNIGHT..**_

"Gee, Laura. Who knew such a tiny tummy had so much … storage space! You just gave Linda Blair a run for her money," Steve quipped as he held the bathroom door open chivalrously for Laura, who had just finished gagging and heaving up enough residuals of her irresponsible night to bring back Prohibition. Having never vomited so much in her entire life, even she had to wonder where she could have possibly fit all of that alcohol, the debris of which had almost painted the entire bathroom floor — good thing her aim was on point.

As freeing as it was to completely shed her inhibitions for a little while, she was quickly learning a huge lesson in limits and suddenly wished somebody had warned her about alcohol's thin line between tipsy and tanked — she felt like she'd just pulled her head out of a gas pipe. One thing was for certain: it would be a long time before another beer bottle touched her lips.

Still suffering from a nasty case of double vision, she clung to the frame of the door and paused to gather her balance as the heaviness in her soured gut continued to weigh her down as if she'd swallowed a bowling ball. Somehow, all of that was still better than spending the rest of the morning with her head in the toilet. " _Nnnhnnhh_ … I feel better now…" she insisted with a wretched groan and she attempted to lift her head from where it hung against her shoulder, gathering enough strength to release the door frame … only to have her knees buckle right from under her the moment she took a step forward as the world around her spun like a top.

"Whoopsie-daisy!" Steve exclaimed in alarm as he rushed to her aid and barely caught her before she could face-plant into the floor. "I gotcha! All righty, my boozing beauty, time to go sleep it off…" He strained with vigorous determination, a vein nearly popping in his forehead while his muscles fought a valiant battle with gravity to help her to stand upright again. Good thing her folks were gone for the weekend or all this drunken commotion would have been pretty difficult to explain.

Taking one of her arms and slinging it around his neck, his other arm looped around her waist to keep her balanced, once again forced to revel in the miracle that she seemed to have no objections being so intimately entangled with him as her limp, exhausted frame collapsed against him. He was still reeling from her uncharacteristic show of gratitude earlier and as much as he was bursting to beseech her for answers, his gears had kicked into mission mode and his only concern at that moment was getting her to lie down before she seriously hurt herself.

"You must be pretty disappointed in me, huh..." Laura slurred shamefully as she leaned into him, making extra special care to keep her eyes closed in fear of becoming ruthlessly dizzy again. The heaviness of her head dropped onto his shoulder as he carefully escorted her through the hallway towards her bedroom, her feet dragging sluggishly behind her.

 _Disappointed?!_ Steve's brows quirked as he peered at her dubiously out of the corner of his eye. It was clear to him that she had no idea this was turning out to be one of the best nights of his life! And that was saying a lot considering that he had a black eye and stains from her lunch all over his shoes… _and_ traces of her lip gloss all over his lips — no complaints here! "…For what, love dove?"

"You would've never been in this situation if it wasn't for me…" she slurred, landing an contrite pat of her hand against his shoulder.

"Oh, no worries whatsoever, my pet. If anybody knows what you're going through, I'd be the one! I was the first of us to take a hitch on the tipsy train after all," he reminded her in an attempt to alleviate the hint of embarrassment he detected in her voice ... which was a little strange to him considering he was the reigning champion of embarrassing situations — he should be the _last_ one she felt timid around.

"Oh yeah, I remember…" Laura perked her head slightly on his shoulder so that her forehead nuzzled his neck as the memory of Max's rooftop party came to mind. As a brief fit of nostalgia washed over her, she reflected on how that night was probably the first time she'd been truly worried about Steve possibly dying. "...when Willy spiked the punch… but that was different."

Being so preoccupied with getting her to her room without damaging anything along the way, he was initially oblivious to her subtle cues that drew her closer to him. Possibly because trudging up the traumatic memory also had him reflecting on the disturbing fact that his life flashed before his eyes that night. "I know, it was worse! I almost became a hood ornament!"

"Yeah, but we were still kids and you were tricked into drinking; I knew full well what I was doing tonight," she replied shamefully, straightening her posture just enough to withdraw her arm from his neck and mindlessly wind it around his midriff instead to get more comfortable ... which completely threw Steve's focus off balance, as well as his poor coordination.

Luckily her grip on him prevented an all-out collision with the door as they reached it, all while giving him an excuse to wrap both of his arms around her shoulders to keep them both from tipping over! What was even more satisfying was the fact that once they were safe from falling, she sank right back into him as if right by his side was the safest place in the world.

Steve was absolutely beaming inside. He couldn't help but seize a few seconds to cherish the moment as he felt her arms tighten around him, safely sneaking a stare as he peered adoringly onto her once her eyes fluttered shut. Being this close to her had always been a thing of miracles, but getting a glimpse of what it felt like to feel so appreciated by her was downright addictive!

"You just had a moment of weakness, that's all," he reassured her softly as a hand gently rubbed her back to assuage her worries. "We all make mistakes, angel face. Lord knows I'm the expert in that arena." He had a hard time reaching for the doorknob because he knew that doing so would mean he'd have to let her go... _for now_. "All I care about now is that you're safe and sound."

Unfortunately, as he was well aware, all amazing things were doomed to come to an end pretty quickly in his world. Surrendering to that fact, his arms reluctantly unraveled from her in order to turn the knob and push her bedroom door open for her. Once he released her, she swayed slightly until the support of the door-frame helped her catch her footing enough to crossed the threshold.

"… And you always did, didn't you?" Laura mused pensively as she slowly dragged herself towards her bed, allowing more memories of his consistent benevolence throughout the years to flood into her drunken daydreams. "Even when you were the one causing mayhem."

Steve remained by the wall hesitantly, not daring to cross any boundaries once she faced him and he watched as she lowered to sit on the edge of the bed. He could recall a time when he'd invade her privacy in a heartbeat by crawling right through her window, but being older and wiser meant his cravings for her weren't as innocent as they used to be either. More than that, now that it appeared as if their relationship was taking on a totally different form, his respect for her had elevated even more.

Opting to keep the remainder of their time short and sweet in fear of psyching himself out, he decided to keep things light. Besides, she could use a little cheering up. "Hey, in my defense, my bloodline is genetically prone to accidents. Why, my great-great grandfather was the one that started the Chicago fire," he jested with an impish smirk, tugging at his khakis over his navel with pride. Managing to draw a giggle out of her, his heart quivered with joy and he grinned from ear to ear.

"Hm. Well, that explains a lot," she replied with a grin to match. Whether it was a joke or not, she didn't find it hard to believe. What she did have a hard time accepting was the fact that the longer he stood there, the more she wished he wasn't so far away from her. She smiled warmly at him as her head canted innocently, her heavy eyes still half-lidded from drunken exhaustion as the slur on her tongue managed to carry a genuine air. "But it doesn't explain where you get your heart of gold from."

 _Blink. ..._ Okay, he just didn't know how to process these compliments and his smile went instantly deadpan. It was as if he was talking to a completely different woman than he'd known only a few short weeks ago and for a _split second_ , he considered that just maybe this whole night _was_ a fluke. That this was some sort of elaborate prank that he'd be the butt of in the morning.

"Well… my mother's cousin's brother had a heart of iron, so…" he retorted succinctly, feigning a clueless shrug as he allowed his doubts to get the best of him. Peering at the clock on her nightstand, he used the god-awful hour as the perfect excuse put this dream come true to an end himself if it meant lessening the blow of disappointment later. At least that way, he would have control over _how_ it ended.

Taking a step towards the door again, he grabbed the knob with the intent of closing it behind him before pausing to regard her and offer a few words of wisdom for her impending hangover, which he could tell would be a hum-dinger. "All you gotta do now is rest your gorgeous head and just let all that sin to flee your bloodstream — you'll feel a lot better after some good ol' detoxing. Sleep tight!" And just as he was about to step out and shut the door on his wildest dream...

"Steve, wait..." Laura beckoned timidly, causing him to hesitate and peek his head through the door again to spot the bummed look on her face, as if he were depriving her of his presence a little too soon. And her next request all but confirmed to him there _was_ a God. "...can you stay with me for a little while?"

…... _Huh?!_ He couldn't help but make sure Stefan hadn't suddenly appeared behind him or something because the amorous look of longing in her eyes was almost frightening. She must be delirious! ...Or maybe he was just hearing things. He quickly snuck a peek over his shoulder to make sure either one of them hadn't lost their minds before turning to her with a most perplexed expression.

"… _Really?"_ he asked incredulously with a hook in his brow, his voice magically dipping three octaves in utter shock. When the frog left his throat, his nasally falsetto returned, only twice as squeaky than usual in contrast. "You're asking _me_ to … _stay?_ Here? …With you? _In your room?_ "

 _Aw. He's so weird and cute._ Laura couldn't help but giggle softly again at his antics, more tickled by the fact that his deeper voice gave her chills of a pleasant nature than anything else. She offered a welcoming smile if only to ease his ambivalence and shrugged innocently. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Steve really only had one response to that as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "…Is that a trick question?"

Laura couldn't say she blamed him for being skeptical, what could she really expect after fourteen years of telling him to get lost? When it was clear he'd earned every right not to trust her anymore, the guilt that she'd been holding on to for the last few weeks suddenly accumulated in her core, threatening to boil over. Her temperment became steadily more somber and pensive as she looked at him with faded, puppy-dog eyes. "C'mon Steve, please? Just until I fall asleep?" she implored, trying her best not to go overboard with a full-blown pout. "I don't wanna be alone right now…"

Steve took a long, meditative pause to properly examine the madness transpiring tonight. Was Laura Winslow... _begging him to stay?_ He pinched his arm hard, just knowing he'd wake up in his lab, lamenting his hopeless love for this amazing woman. ...But then, he didn't. She was still sitting there, staring at him with a look on her face that just killed him.

It was official. He finally _wore her down_. Hell must be frigid right now...

He cleared his throat gently. "…Excuse me," he whispered politely as he calmly stepped outside of the room and gently pulled it shut behind him ... BECAUSE IT WAS TIME TO POLKA! As if thousands of fire ants were chewing at the seat of his pants, he danced victoriously around the hallway in a silent polka circle with every hip dig and kick shuffle in the book, a chorus of angelic accordions chiming in his head. He'd been waiting for this day his entire, deplorable little life!

Laura knew very well that his quick disappearance was a result of some kind of outburst since she knew him well enough to predict a classic Steve reaction. But while the door remained closed, it gave her a chance to conceal her own reaction, which continued to surprise her through and through — she suddenly found herself drunkenly scrambling for a mirror to make sure she didn't have dry puke all over her face! She'd already blown chunks all over him; the last thing she needed was to look like she'd caught rabies. And so she frantically tossed around her comforter to the point where she was swimming through it, searching for the pocket vanity she knew she'd dropped there somewhere.

When Steve was done properly exhausting that very necessary display of extreme excitement, he returned to the door once again as if he'd never broken a sweat. Sedated, he rapidly slipped back through the door to see Laura had slipped under the covers and had gotten comfortable against her pillows, flashing an innocent grin!

 _...Well, well, well._ Now, he didn't want to jump to conclusions. But he'd be lying if he didn't hope certain odds were in his favor, if only by a fraction of a percent. Forcing himself to pull it together, he poised his spine, stuck his chest out, and coolly shut the door behind him with a kick of a saddle shoe. " _Just for a spell_ ," he obliged with a deep croon, the magical bass briefly returning as he swag-waddled into the room, brimming with charm.

Even though she surfaced from under the covers before he caught her fishing, she'd failed in actually finding the mirror so she resorted to hoping a quick wipe of her mouth against her sleeve would do the trick. She had every intention of getting back up to entertain him once he agreed to stay.

But the moment her head touched the pillow stacked against the headboard ... _oh man_ , it was just game over. It suddenly felt like her bed was giving her the most unbelievable hug and she melted into the plush cushions in utter surrender. And now with the warmth of her covers holding her hostage? She couldn't move anymore if she wanted to.

Steve paused his gait towards her once he saw her deflate into the pillows. When he watched her eyes begin to flutter shut, her hands tucked beneath her face, he began to slowly retreat. If she wanted him to just stay while she fell asleep, he figured he'd just watch her from a distance for a few moments and revel in her beauty in serene silence. Stepping towards the seat by the window, he began to carefully lower into the chair.

"Why are you way over there?" he heard her murmur, causing him to balk just before he sank into the seat, standing again. When he looked up, he saw that she was still wide awake and scrutinizing him with a tired smile. "I don't bite ... anymore."

"Well..." _What are waiting for, man?! Do you want this woman or don't you?!_ He actually had no idea why he had to talk himself into it but he eventually conceded to the doubts that continued to assault his intuition despite his trend of victories throughout the night but he just decided to trust the moment to take them in the right direction. "Okay."

Buzzing with ambivalence, he stepped towards her bed and leaned over to briefly iron out the vacant spot next to her so as to allow him to sit on top of the comforter without invading her space. But he noticed that simply sitting on it forced him to keep his back turned on her... it became a perfect excuse to get more comfortable.

As if to parry protest, he cautiously scooted further onto the mattress and pressed his back against the headboard so that he was sitting against it. And when his back began to feel awkwardly twisted, he slowly brought one leg onto the bed ... and then the other. To his surprise, all Laura did was smile graciously.

"Y'know … I've been thinking," she began softly, Steve most definitely taking note of the sincerity of her tone as she peered up to him with one of the most honest gazes he'd seen in a long time. It made him feel like she really trusted him and he was instantly engaged with anything she had to say. "We've been friends a really long time and … I realize something."

"What's that?"

There was something else she desperately wished somebody had warned her about when it came to being this tanked: it was like being stuck in a pit of drunken tears. Not only was her moral compass out of whack, but so were her emotions. It seemed like the further underwater she dove, the less she could hold her feelings — and thus, her words — at bay. With her internal filter completely lifted, the secrets in her heart gushed out unchecked.

"That out of everyone I know … you were the one I should have been counting on the most this whole time. You've never lied to me, you've never betrayed me … most of all, you've never left me. And you always stood up for me, even when you couldn't stand up for yourself…"

Those feelings. Those words. All that truth. It gushed and gushed with reckless abandon as she slowly sunk in vat of emotional quicksand ... and she didn't even care. For some reason, these moments with him felt more like fleeting opportunities than mistakes she would end up regretting in the morning. Alcohol had a way of completely distorting the reality of hidden emotions while at the same time magnifying their truth and she didn't have the strength to keep herself in check anymore if her life depended on it — her courage was purely liquid at this point.

 _Wow._ It was truly astonishing to Steve to be on the other end of such praise, but to have it come from her was simply mind-blowing ... to the point where it was a little too surreal for comfort. "Uh… sugarlips…" he began tentatively as he turned towards her, "...not that I'm complaining but …I gotta ask. Why are you so … _obliging_ tonight? I mean… besides the fact that you've tipped over more beer bottles than an Irish pub."

Laura couldn't help but giggle a little at his remark. He'd always been pretty funny, but she knew now that she'd never acknowledged it enough to laugh _with_ him instead of _at_ him... and now she couldn't get over the fact that she rarely giggled this much in many people's presence. This had to be the weirdest nights of her life... and through it all, she had to admit that he'd been the best part about it.

"You've been closer to me the last few hours than you have been over the past month!" Steve said, ironing out his reasoning for being suspicious about all of this. "For a second there, I thought Houdini kidnapped you."

All she could do was nod to affirm his right to be suspicious, uninhibited in admitting her dirt as she head sunk further into the pillow. "I've been avoiding you on purpose, Steve."

"…Oh." He deflated slightly, momentarily butt-hurt by that statement. _Figures_. "…But, I don't understand. If you've been avoiding me, then why all the …warm and fluffy sentiments all of a sudden?"

And that was when she felt the floodgates to her accumulating emotions beginning to rumble and buckle beneath the inebriated pressure of her guilt. And it just like clockwork, tears began to slide out of her eyes and onto her pillow. Even though she was immediately pissed off at herself for being so vulnerable in front of him, something in her was desperate to redeem itself. "…You really wanna know, Steve?"

 _Whoa, dude! No tears!_ It was like Steve went into automatic red alert the minute he saw her begin to cry and he instantly regretted ever asking. The last thing he wanted to do was be the reason she was upset. "Oh, no, please don't cry, Laura! I'm sorry, forget I asked —"

"It's okay," she insisted with a sniffle, quickly lifting her hand to wipe her tears away. "I wanna tell you, it's just kinda hard to explain." She wasn't sure if she was quite ready to tell him the _whole_ truth, but she was at least willing to explore parts of it on her quest to redemption. Taking a breath, she scooted a little closer to him until her hand could rest gently on his forearm.

And it was as if her touch alone was all the permission he needed to just relax and give her his undivided, uninterrupted attention. So without a second doubtful thought, he silently removed his glasses and placed them on her nightstand. He then grabbed the pillow behind him and fluffed it to set it next to hers, flipping on his stomach so that he could lie prone and hug it against his head as his ankles crossed off the side of the bed ... _ahhhh_ , much better. "Talk to me, babycakes."

Now not only were they both super comfortable, they were now nose-to-nose and could peer directly in each other's eyes. Their voices remained just above a hushed whisper as their conversation persisted as best friends just being honest with each other. It was one of the most gratifying things Steve ever experienced.

"Somewhere along the line, I guess I just thought you'd give up pursuing me if I was shallow and condescending enough — I've spent the last few years counting on that. But no matter what I did or how much I humiliated you, you were still loyal to me and my family. So when I missed your birthday … _again_ , it just kinda hit me that I never deserved a friend like you…"

"Oh, don't say that. I _did_ get your present, y'know. And I loved it! Whether you missed my birthday or not, you remembered eventually and _that's_ what matters to me."

"No, _listen to me,_ Steve," Laura interjected as a hand peeked from under the cover to grab at his and their fingers laced affectionately. And the more they surrendered to the moment, the more he found himself starting to truly believe that _this_... was actually possible. "I really need you to know that you never deserved to be treated like a nobody. Not by me or anyone else. And I'm _so_ sorry, I really am. I wish there was something I could do to make up for everything you've done for me…" A soft smirk graced her features as a thought snuck into her mind. "...But you're a pretty tough act to follow."

He was nearly speechless as she offered one of the most sincere apologies he'd ever heard, weakening his resolve. If he wasn't trying so hard to keep his cool, he'd be bawling like a baby right now. It was like she'd finally fallen out of heaven after years of offering up the same, unanswered prayer. "Oh?" he croaked as a desperately tried to keep it together.

"Don't you remember that time you brought a marching band over my house, _just_ to ask me out? I always thought that was _so_ sweet, but I never wanted to admit because that would mean throwing you a bone," she admitted with an impish grin, tickled by their walk down memory lane, hand-in-hand.

"Smarty pants..."

"And how about the time you interrupted a concert to announce to a crowded auditorium how much you loved me? You always buy me presents when holidays roll around … and sometimes, just because it's Monday. You've even proclaimed your love on national television. And I used to think you that did those things just to embarrass and annoy me. But that's not true. You're just an extremely passionate romantic… and that's a rarity in my book. And y'know what? …I kinda miss your serenades, too."

Steve's brows lifted in surprise at the fact that she'd even retained his impressive displays of persuasion to memory. He always figured that since she seemed to always walk away embarrassed that it never really stuck with her. Besides, he always had to one-up himself just to get her to stay in the same room sometimes. "…You remember all that?"

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I? Those are things that are kind of hard to forget."

Well, that was a relief. At least he knew all his begging hadn't been in vain ... clearly not if she was willing to open up so much to him now. "I assure you that I absolutely meant every word — written, sung, shouted, or whispered! And I still do. But let's face it, baby, those days were child's play. My desperate measures take on an entirely new face nowadays." _Liiiiike_ , creating a secret potion to fall out of love with her? Yeah, he wasn't going to be _that_ honest right now.

"But why me?" she asked with a knit in her brow, just as perplexed as everybody else had been about the nature of his feelings, which seemed so boundless and unconditional that it was almost ridiculous. He was the only human being she knew that was so passionate to that level. "How could you possibly be so loving to someone whose so horrible to you all the time?"

"C'mon now, _stop_ that — you are _far_ from horrible!" he insisted sternly, almost offended by her self-deprecation. How had she _still_ not gotten the point after all these years? "Why, you're my _favorite_ person in the whole world! You're by far the most gorgeous, intelligent, and caring woman I've ever known — hands down. That's why I do it! I love you, Laura, I'd do anything to try to make you smile, even if I have to take a hit ... or two. Or a thousand." Shrug.

Laura's eyes were bashfully averted as she was lovingly admonished. She knew he was right. But there so many things about their relationship that complicated its progression. And she knew it was their own faults for letting things get so crazy. "…And what about Myra? She's all those things, too, isn't she?"

 _Whoa_... that curveball came outta nowhere.

He could have asked her the same thing about Stefan, but respectfully decided against it considering that he was just as responsible for her current relationship as she was. Stefan would never have existed without his brilliant mind to begin with and he created him just _for_ her. He figured if he couldn't have her, he wanted her to be happy with someone he could trust. Why not his own genetically modified clone?

Questioning why she was with him right now instead of Stefan was like tossing a pot of precious gold into a pit of fire — there was no logical reason to go down that road of speculation when all it would do is diminish the wonderment of this rare and precious moment. He'd been chasing moments like this with her all of his life; he _refused_ to ruin it for himself now! So all he did was tell her what she'd heard a thousand times already.

"Yes, but …this heart of mine is proving to be very inflexible; it wants what it wants. As much as I care about Myra …she'll never be you. No matter what you or anybody else says, I would never trade your friendship for anything else in the world because you mean so much to me and you always will."

 _Awwww_. It was just so funny to her how much things had changed. She'd been listening to him say that for as long as she could remember and this was the first time she actually _heard_ him. She couldn't help but smile as her heart began to humbly quiver. Her grip on his hand tightened and she lifted her head momentarily to place a soft, gracious kiss against his cheek before returning her head to the pillow. "I know you mean that, too … And you know what? Even though I have a weird way of showing it sometimes, I hope you know that I really do care about you, too."

He'd been waiting his whole life to hear her say that. It was still hard to believe _he_ wasn't the one who was drunk right now. "… So, you don't … hate my guts anymore?"

Laura's eyes began to become extremely heavy, slow blinks lidding her gaze as she replied softly, "I never _hated_ you, Steve. I guess I just didn't appreciate you…or rather, I didn't _want_ to because I didn't know how." Not many people knew how to appreciate him, considering how he's constantly looked on as a nuisance. It took a special type of person to see him for who he really was.. which was why she knew she didn't have a right to blame Myra. The girl had been on point the whole time. No wonder people thought she was a nutball.

"But the truth is ... you're the best friend I've ever had. I always knew that, I was just too stupid to see it ... and …" She was interjected by a heavy yawn and her lids remained closed, her voice beginning to trail off. "I hope … you can ... forgive me ..."

If only she really understood the effect she had on him. He was rendered speechless yet again as he watched her begin to doze off, her words washing away all of the burdens and insecurities he carried with him throughout his life and they all seemed to slowly lift off of his shoulders.

 _SNNOOOORRREEE_ …

He blinked as the mattress seem to rumble beneath the power of those Z's. "L-Laura?" His head lifted from the pillow to examine if she was out for the count. Satisfied that she was peacefully asleep, he carefully unraveled his hand from hers and hugged his pillow again with a sigh of content.

He could have laid there and watch her sleep all night but he knew he couldn't stay. While it was clear their friendship was turning over a new leaf, he was still very aware that they were both involved and unfortunately, Laura fell asleep before she could help him put a label on what she was _really_ trying to tell him. Oh well, there was always tomorrow...

But he had a few more words on his heart and he let them out softly, hoping that she heard him somewhere deep in the recesses of her dreams. "…The fact that you care at all is more than enough to keep my ticker thumpin' for all eternity. I could never give up on you, Laura … and _believe_ me, I've _tried_. But the harder I resist, the deeper and deeper I fall. According to my research ...it's just not possible. Thank you so much, Laura. This has been the best night of my life." He leaned in to land a final kiss on her forehead before carefully lifting from the bed. Returning the pillow to its spot next to her, he pulled the covers over her shoulders. Grabbing his glasses off of her nightstand, he returned them to his face.

With a humbled smile, he made his way towards the door. "Sweet dreams, my little honey crumpet. Sweet dreams..." he said just before flicking off the light and stepping out of her room, pulling the door close softly behind him.

And once he was on the other side, grinning like an idiot, he couldn't help but pause and reflect on what just happened. As usual, the shockwave of it was a little too much for his brain to process. Just like that, his head felt like it was floating right off his shoulders and without warning, he fainted onto the hallway carpet with that enamored smile plastered on his face.

 _Best. Night. Ever._

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 12..._

 _Thank you so much for reading, If you're enjoying this fic, please follow, review, and share!_


	12. Damage Control

_**Chapter 12: Damage Control**_

 _Summary: Blinded by guilt and confusion, Laura tries to formulate a way to undo her recent misgivings while Steve deals with the unsettling side effects of a bleeding heart._

* * *

"…You had _pillow talk_ with him and then told him you didn't remember _anything_?" Max asked incredulously with one of the most wide-eyed stares of suspended animation distorting her features, peeking her head out from behind the changing curtain just so that her bestie clearly noted the disbelief in her expression … and the ridicule in her eyes was enough to knock Laura's prior wistfulness down a peg or two as her fearful heart was jump-started by the wires of truth that sparked hazardously in all directions.

Having abandoned the task of distracting herself with trying on clothes about halfway into her story, she was now seated on the bench opposite of the stall Max was in, suddenly debilitated by her nerves as the sneakered foot of her crossed leg shook with a rapid, successive wind of her ankle. She rocked back and forth with crossed arms, her hands rubbing away the goosebumps on her biceps.

 _Pillow talk…?_ When Max put it that way, Laura was instantly sobered by the horrifying reality that she'd thrown Steve more than a bone — he was probably gathering skeletons left in the wake of her foolishness. It was as if recounting the tale had brought on some form of post-traumatic stress that only reminded her of the upsetting consequences she knew would be difficult to avoid. Ironically, she suddenly missed that sensation of pure, numb ignorance that the liquor afforded her the night before. Hugging herself shamefully, she was seconds away from crawling into the corner and curling up into a fetal position.

"I'm not proud of it, but _yes_ , all right?" she admitted tightly through gritted teeth, angst and regret befalling her expression as her eyes dropped to the floor. "So, of course, he ran with it … and rightfully so."

" _Pffft,"_ Max scoffed comically, consumed with her skepticism as she momentarily disappeared behind the curtain again, only to step back out seconds later sporting the leather jacket she'd picked out. Walking to the full-length mirror nearby, she posed and scrutinized her reflection as many more questions bum-rushed her mind, all of which ultimately leading to the only one she felt summed up her disbelief. "Okay, Laura. What's _really_ going on here? Do _you_ even believe this or are you just having a severe case of temporary insanity?" Her gaze caught Laura's reflection in the mirror as she sat behind her, a brow arching in suspicion.

"I know what you're thinking, Max. But it's not _like that_ ," Laura recanted as her irritation towards Max's criticism began to burgeon. She didn't have to be reminded every five minutes that she'd dropped her brain in a ditch somewhere — she was well aware of the downright frightening implications of her actions. And the more that storm cloud gathered over her, the more desperately she wanted to turn back the hands of time. And so the back-peddling began. If her best friend couldn't even understand where she was coming from, exploring these foreign feelings of unfiltered truth would be hard road to hoe.

In that moment, the choice was made clear that if she wanted to contain this disaster waiting happen, then she'd have to start with convincing herself that everything that had transpired over the past 48 hours was nothing more than a fail of epic proportions. That would mean reneging her words and ignoring her intuition … she'd done it for the last fourteen years, so a few more might not be so bad. Maybe by then, this whole thing might just fade away in the back of her memory as a very unsettling phase in her development into womanhood. _God_ , _she hoped so._

Reluctantly easing down that fork in the road, she gave an innocent half-shrug as she naively recited her stance, dishing excuses as she pushed her secret back to its dark hiding place in her heart. "I may be tolerant of Steve now. And _slightly_ attracted to him. And yes, he is a good kisser…. a surprisingly good kisser. But we're just _friends_ ," she insisted sharply. "Stefan's my man and I love him. If he knew what I did, he wouldn't trust me anymore. So, when Steve confronted me about it, I panicked! If I told him I remembered what happened —"

"Don't even finish that sentence, you might jinx yourself," Max interjected emphatically, seeing the scale of the disaster unfold in her mind's eye as well. Planting her hands on her hips as she spun to face Laura, her head canted curiously. "Let me ask you this: ...did you really mean it? Those things you said?"

Laura sighed heavily as she considered that question and she found that no clear answer could formulate, as evidenced by her stammering. "…Y-yeah? — _No!_ Oh… I don't know, Max.." She deflated in frustration, momentarily torn as a hand lifted to pensively knead away at her forehead with her fingertips, letting the answer come to her through the template of denial she'd set up for herself. "Most of what happened just ... _came out_ in heat of the moment, I couldn't have really meant any of it _like that,_ right? I mean … it was _true_ … I guess. But I was so drunk, I didn't know _what_ I was saying or why." And the more she spoke through her denial, the more her tangled confusion allowed her to believe it. Slowly, but surely, the sour knot in her gut began to sweeten just a little.

"Good, 'cause I gonna say. If Stefan isn't working for you in the necking department, I'll _gladly_ take those lips off your hands," Max teased with an impish smirk. Every girl in town had been waiting to get their hands on Stefan Urquelle — if Laura didn't want him, she'd better prepare for the stampede of thirsty rebounders running her over like the clearance rack at a Black Friday sale.

And Laura found that implication disturbing, slightly threatened by Max's teasing as she shot her a warning glare … it was enough to remind her just how into Stefan she was, despite the 'distractions' carrying her attention lately. The recognition of her jealousy hit her full-force and her love for her sexy boyfriend had always been what made the entire dilemma that much more foreboding — her secret dove even deeper into the abyss of her soul. "Uh, I like their place in my possession just fine, thank you. And for your information, I never said Stefan's a _bad_ kisser — far from it!" she insisted, offended that Max would think otherwise… even though she knew she'd led her to believe it in the first place and she condemned her big mouth. "Those lips are the definition of 'scrumptious' and _they're all mine._ It's just ... _different_. A lot different. _"_

"Greedy _and_ stingy. You're a real catch, Laura," Max shaded sarcastically with a sage nod. All Laura could do was roll her eyes before they humbly averted to the floor yet again, stomaching the sting of cheeky criticism … she couldn't retort if she wanted to because that statement couldn't possibly paint a more accurate picture. Becoming solemn again, Max's brows furrowed in confusion as she mentally tried — and failed — to put herself in Laura's shoes. "And speaking of Stefan, I thought you guys were doing great! What happened?"

"We were …" Laura replied dolefully and then quickly corrected herself, "I mean, we _are!_... I guess?" Shrugging with uncertainty, she elaborated, "We've been arguing a lot lately but it's not his fault. I'm the one pushing him away."

And that just didn't make any sense to Max. The knit in her brow could fold a sheet of paper. "How come? Because of Steve?"

"Oh God, _no_ , don't even say that," Laura revoked with an adamant shake of her head to officiate her denial. "We've been kinda drifting apart before any of this really happened…" The more that thoughts of Stefan made it into her mind, the more she realized that she didn't even know _why_ she was pushing him away! Just how any answers were elusive when it came to Steve, so were the answers regarding her issues with her boyfriend and she drew a blank. She couldn't truly connect the dots if her life depended on it — it was like being stuck in emotional limbo. With her fingers pensively fidgeting with her bottom lip, she opted to float on the surface.

"…The easy thing to say is that it's because he left me again." She gave a clueless shrug, knowing in her heart that it was only a portion of the answer. "That he's in Italy enjoying his upscale, celebrity life without me. That he _always_ leaves without me even when he claims to worship me. I guess I'm just bitter that his career seems more important sometimes — the majority of our conversations over the past few months have been over the phone."

"….Yeah, too easy, girl. Try again." Max clocked the bull almost immediately, shaking her head as she rejected that answer, removing the jacket from her shoulders and folding it over her forearm.

Laura's jaw dropped in offense, feigning innocent bewilderment as she was called out. " _What?_ "

"C'mon, girl, wake up and smell the Burberry!" Max asserted eagerly, referencing Stefan's favorite cologne as she approached the bench to take a seat next to her. It was time to give her bestie a lesson in reality and she stated her case. "This isn't the first time he's had to leave, y'know. Stefan is one of the most _gorgeous_ chocolate drops in existence and you know it. He has a fly ride, an amazing job, the best wardrobe money can buy…" Laura couldn't help but roll her eyes a little — leave it to Max to inject her shallow fashion obsession into relationship goals... and that's when she realized that she used to do the same thing. _Le sigh._ "He's suave, he's sexy, you don't have to scam his entourage just to get a glimpse of him and yet you're thinking about ditching him for a guy who saves old gum in a jar under his bed? Forgive me for being a little concerned about your sanity." Not that she was judging — she did date a less-than-polished guy herself for several years as she'd said before, but comparisons don't lie! It was a no-brainer to her.

"Hold on now, I never said I wanted to _ditch_ him, Max!" Laura clarified vehemently …and by this point, neither one of them were cognizant of the fact that their library voices were long gone. Fortunately for them, there didn't seem like there were many people in the vicinity anxious to try anything on and they trusted the walls of the changing room to contain their conversation. "If I did, I would have told them both the truth. Time away from Stefan is always hard enough without this … _weird_ thing going on with Steve making it even more dramatic." She gave a rueful shake of her head as a disheartening reality descended upon her: "But even so, after all that …I miss Stefan so much and I feel so guilty that I can't think straight."

"Well, that explains why you were dancing on Captain Morgan's toes all night!" Max quipped with an elbow nudge once she spotted the disoriented look on her bestie's face, triggering a sense of compassion. "Do you think he knows what went down between you two?"

"No, but ... I think he knows I went off the deep end," Laura replied meekly as she gave Max a guilty side-long glance as her awkward conversation with him this morning came to the forefront of her mind, disrupting her nerves even more.

"What's the big deal about that? I've seen Stefan drink a beer before."

"… _One_ beer as opposed to a bar-load. And as far as I know, he's never actually been wasted. He already thinks it's something far beyond my capacity to do and he'd be disappointed that I lied." And she _really_ hated it when Stefan was mad at her. The man was the embodiment of self-control, patience, and understanding — getting on his bad side was next to impossible and when she managed to succeed, it felt worst than disappointing her parents. "He called me twice since I hung up on him this morning but I haven't called him back because I don't know what to say!"

What a dilemma. Comprehension was slowly finding its way to Max as she considered how confusing it must be to caught in an emotional triangle this complicated. If _she_ was having a hard time understanding, she couldn't fathom what Laura was going through. Perhaps it was time to offer solutions instead of critique and so she threw out a very generous offer to be the sacrificial lamb in the picture. "Look. Just tell him _I_ was the one who got drunk and that you spent most of last night sobering me up."

… _Word?_ As if she'd caught a fleeting ray of sunshine in the middle of an ice age, Laura instantly perked with relief as her bestie came to her rescue yet again! And she clutched to that raft for dear life, smiling warmly as she grabbed her hand and squeezed it graciously. "Aww, Max, you'd do that for me?" But that's when she remembered just how perceptive Stefan was and she paused contemplatively, wondering if she were even clever enough to keep the wool pulled over his eyes. There were several witnesses at that party, after all… even so, nobody but Steve knew what really happened that night. "…You think he'll buy it?"

Max shrugged with uncertainty but remained optimistic in light of the limited options available to her. "I don't see why not unless Steve runs to him and tries to defend his honor or something… not that anybody would take him seriously even if he did rat."

Laura paused to consider the possibility but her intuition told her otherwise and she shook her head in dismissal. "…Nah. I don't think he'd say anything."

 _Oh, no?_ Max's brows shot up incredulously. Need she remind her of the numerous times her other boyfriends were 'confronted' with the nerd's thirsty tendencies? There'd been too many times to properly keep count. "Hey. This is _Steve Urkel_ we're talking about, I wouldn't be so sure."

She posed a great point; Steve had never been shy when it came to defending his place in Laura's life to any of her boyfriends, Stefan included. But there were several differences in this case that would probably hurt him more than help him and even though he acted like a doofus sometimes, she knew he was _far_ from stupid enough to put himself in that position regardless of his feelings. "I know, but he respects me too much to kiss and tell... especially now that he thinks I don't even remember what happened. If he said anything, it'll make him look like a jerk for 'taking advantage of me' and I think he knows that all too well." … _Yikes_. Laura couldn't help but cringe with guilt when she heard how manipulative it sounded coming out of her mouth.

And that's when Max more or less verbalized what she was thinking, painting an even bigger picture of the desperation at hand. "...That's misleading, Laura. And kinda cruel, too." Pausing pensively, she considered all angles of that assessment and came to a very satisfying conclusion — she could totally see Laura escaping destiny scott-free… of course, at the expense of Steve's feelings, which always had felt like second nature to ignore. The irony was so amusing, Max couldn't help but smirk with impish satisfaction. "…It's perfect!"

Laura deflated in disgust for herself as she keeled over and dropped her face shamefully in her hands with a low groan of distress. Didn't she _just_ apologize to Steve for treating him like a used piece of tissue all these years? In her mind, the obvious was confirmed: she was officially the biggest hypocrite on the planet because she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. "Uggghhh, _see?!_ I'm a _horrible_ person! It wasn't supposed to come to this!" she cried pitifully with a rueful shake of her head. Finally reaching an emotional dead-end, she simply flailed in defeat as they both rose from the bench, helplessly accepting her fate as she turned to her bestie with one final request. "You're right, Max — I've lost my mind. If I don't make it through this, I'm counting on you to put me out of my misery."

"Trust me, I'm tempted," Max quipped with a sage nod before giving her an encouraging pat on the shoulders and dictating the best lesson to be learned here. "Word of advice? Just stick to ginger ale next time."

And that was the best advice she'd heard all day. "I know, right?" Scoffing knowingly, all Laura could do was nod in agreement as Max chuckled and linked arms with her best friend, dragging her out of the changing room and towards the register to pay for the jacket. They'd definitely had enough of the mall for one day.

Too bad they'd been too preoccupied to examine their surroundings a little better ...because seconds after exiting the changing room, the curtains of one of the more obscure stalls hidden in the corner rustled softly as a hand slowly peeked through it to pull back the shroud, revealing none other than Myra herself slowly emerging from behind it... and she was _heated!_

The raw anger in her eyes could have burned a hole into the spot her clueless enemy once was, despondently hugging a wooden hanger close to her chest like a teddy bear as her whole body trembled in outrage, desperately trying to contain her fury.

 _...That. Little. Skeezer!_

She'd been clutching it so tightly to keep from tearing the damn room apart that her knuckles were ghost white and her palms were beet red. Her normally cheerful countenance was marred with scathing resentment and anguish in a way that dwarfed her usually overbearing enthusiam. She couldn't have been more crushed even if a house fell on her.

"…Okey-dokey, Miss _BENDS-LOW_ ," she growled viciously through gritted teeth, her fangs bared as vengeful vitriol spewed from her being. "You want war? As God is my witness, you've just declared the _mother_ of all wars. You wait, missy! You haven't _seen misery_ until you cross Myra Boutrose Boutrose Muckhouse! Oh, this is _faaaaar_ from over, you thirsty gutter-butt-two-timing-sud-sucking-man-stealing _trollop!_ _Hmph!_ " With a dramatic stomp of her foot, she snatched the curtains shut so hard that the adjacent stalls were stripped of theirs, the fabric of each curtain but her own violently ripped from the bars around the room, one after the other like a row of dominoes. "...Oops."

* * *

 _ **A WEEK LATER...**_

It was such a perfect day. The birds were singing, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the cool breeze was so gentle that the ripples dancing on Lake Michigan never settled so calmly. The rays of the sun beaming from the deep blue heavens was as pleasant as a warm hug and the grass was so green that its shimmer mimicked tiny shards of emerald crystals. The squirrels were perky as they hid their nuts, all the dogs and their owners were happily running amuck, and even the seagulls weren't as aggressive while stealing sandwiches today ...but none of that was enough to quell the deep sense of grief that had been following Steve around like a dark cloud all week long.

He sat against the trunk of a large tree perched on the grassy hilltops of the lake's shore, the canopy of the leaves providing shade for him and the checkered blanket spread out beneath him. His knees were bent to incline his lap as a surface to write on and he scribbled mindlessly in a college notebook, breezing through a mathematical calculation as if he were a wizard and the pencil was his wand. He barely had to think about it ...in fact, his writing went into autopilot as he found his mind wandering to darker places, the numbers and letters of the equation blurring through his magnified lenses.

He felt like there was a huge void gaping in his heart, desperate to be filled with anything that could distract him from the fact that he failed miserably in obtaining the one thing in his life that brought him most gratifying sense of joy. In his mind, the possiblity of grasping what happiness really meant was right there at his fingertips but just like everything else he touched, it succumbed to his sloppiness and crumbled to dust. And he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this miserable. Not even the whole brew fiasco could top the levels at which he felt utterly sorry for himself.

Despite being the clear victim of Laura's typical selfishness, it wasn't a surprise that Steve was blaming himself. He would happily be the tugboat to all of her blame in a split second if it meant he could ever have her. But there was something particularly heartbreaking about her rejection this time around that made him want to close himself in his deprivation chamber for the rest of his life.

At least in the past, she never led him on to such a degree and one of the things he respected the most about her had been her absolute honesty. He felt hurt, embarrassed, and humiliated ...familiar emotions that he recycled almost daily. But despite being spat at by his lady love all his life, it had been a really long time since he felt this betrayed by her. It wasn't her avoiding him this time — he was avoiding _her_. He could find very few words that weren't surface level in his encounters with her over the past week, which were fleeting, shallow, and vacant of all those things she told him that night. Seemed as if she were back to the business of disregarding him, as usual. It made him want to shrink into himself and never unshell.

...But he hid it _very_ well! He'd gotten very good at steeling his spine and hardening that enthusiastic shell everyone recognized after so many years of emotional rollercoasters. He actually couldn't remember the last time he shed a tear. Unbeknowst to those who _thought_ they knew him, as much as he claimed he didn't feel a need to change his quirky ways because he accepted himself unconditionally, the truth was ...he didn't know _who_ he was. He never did because he was never nurtured the way everyone around him seemed to be. They were held when they were young ... _hugged_. Told they would excel beyond their wildest dreams; that they were perfect just the way they came.

Not Steve. He might as well have been raised in a barn ...or in the basement, which was pretty much the case. And the Winslows wondered why he was clinging to their example of unconditional love so desperately. His mother acted as if he'd invaded her womb like a burglar in the night and his father was never satisfied with him despite his downright frenzied efforts to please them both. In the end, they abandoned him altogether.

His traumatic upbringing behind the secretly chaotic and abusive walls of the Urkel house was directly related to why he was always dramatically overcompensating to this day, which always spiraled into chaos in some form or another ...and furthermore the reason why he always chased the impossible in a never-ending cycle of self-sabatoge.

And that neglect led to him always seeking his truth to the point of obsession, finding it in the right places only to manifest his reality in the most reckless of ways, which made him repellant to his peers. Out of everywhere he looked for that truth: his insane experiments, his countless hobbies, his passion for science ...that insatiated thirst for knowledge that came with uncovering the very nature of the universe itself in hopes of finding answers ...the only time his heart felt truly at peace was when he was looking at _her_. Laura Lee Winslow. And she was, by far, his most coveted life-long desire that remained hopelessly out of reach.

So even though he tried his best to stay as true to himself as much as possible, it was actually very difficult for anybody to tell when he was _this_ upset... or maybe it wasn't considering he was ignored constantly. In either case, the way he saw himself was all he seemed to have left. And after all of his years of tinkering with the unknown, the only way he could identify himself without a shadow of a doubt was through science.

And as a scientist, he had a responsibility in uncovering those hidden secrets of the universe. For the last week, his class project with memory enhancement had consumed him like a second flesh and the distraction was proving to be a sufficient crutch in faciliating the convincing facade of merry contentment he carried around like a shield. The way he saw it, despite being completely absorbed in the horrible aches of his heartbreak, it hadn't been the first time he'd been here. And if his calculations were correct, there would never be a last time. All he could do was take a deep, calming breath ...and continue scribbling.

"I got your favorite, sugar-booger!"

...But the pencil was launched by a violent flinch and the notebook went flying along with it the moment Myra's twittery voice pierced the cool breeze, her sudden appearance as she skipped up the hill startling the depression right out of him! Barely catching a scream before it escaped his throat, he clung against the tree trunk in alarm as his one and only ride-or-die defender advanced on his shady spot with a picnic basket in tow... and more schemes up her sleeve, no doubt.

He supressed the fleeting urge to just climb the tree, hide in the leaves, and hope she didn't find him... or maybe he should just jump in the lake ...but that was when he remembered the reason he'd even been waiting there.

Today was the day for the picnic she'd been begging to have with him all week... _rats_. _How could I have forgotten that quick?_ He scratched his noggin, perplexed as his girlfriend reached him and kneeled cheerfully onto the blanket next to him with one of the brightest smiles that seemed, perhaps ... _too_ genial, even for her. It turns out Steve wasn't the only one who had a perfected facade.

Wasting no time, Myra seemed to bounce on her heels as she sat back on her haunches, humming blithely and opening the basket to reveal the picnic spread she'd prepared, revealing each item as she sounded them off brightly. "Deviled eggs ...seaweed chips ...aaaannnd!" She paused to build the anticipation; gotta save the best for last! ...Not that it mattered to Steve, who only seemed capable of a blank stare at the moment. "...Pickled calamari sandwiches! With head-hog cheese slices, fermented cabbage, and _olive loaf swiss_." Her brows wiggled impishly and she set the sandwich in his lap, attempting to bait his favor with the snacks as she leaned towards him to gently rested her chin on his shoulder, batting her eyes innocently.

 _Sigh._ If it were any other week, he'd be eager to chow down on his favorite snacks, which he knew were always deliciously prepared with the utmost tender loving care in Myra's hands. Alas, even he was only capable of so much when it came to maintaining his poker face and he hadn't had an appetite in days.

"Thanks, schookums, but ...I'm not very hungry right now. I'll just stick to my grass in a glass," he said with a nod as he set the sandwich aside and picked up the said cup of wheat grass he'd been gradually sipping on, the thick green liquid starting to foam on top. Taking a quick sip and giving a few satisfied smacks of his mouth, he found the bitter taste strangely comforting. It was as if his taste buds didn't deserve the pleasure of squid right now.

Unlike those who made an active effort to ignore him, Myra could see right through his every little nuance. And one thing she knew for certain — squid and swiss was never off the table, even in the bleakest of circumstances. That's when she knew what this was all about ... perhaps because she was suffering a similiar trauma. And she nearly succumbed to her own heartache which threatened to erupt through the lie of her smile but she managed to keep herself from bursting at the seams. After a reflective pause, she cleared her throat and revved up her perkiness for good measure with a shaky grin. "You sure? I even brought, for dessert... tuna and banana smoothies!" And she produced two thermoses to dangle enticingly in front of his face.

But Steve was unmoved. He took a final sip of the wheat grass, gave it a long, pensive stare and then tossed the cup aimlessly into the lake. The need for nourishment of any kind suddenly gaped as wide as the hole in his heart. "Eh... maybe later," he said with a disheartened shrug, trying to desperately gather his own seams so as to conceal how worn the threads of his emotional stability really were.

Seeing him this way — that passion she loved so much completely drained from his bones — Myra's heart hurt even more viciously and her veins began to pump white hot with an unsettling mixture of anger, compassion, and rancor. She'd been biting her tongue to the point of bleeding for the last six days over the heinous events of the past weekend, hoping with fervor that he would be honest with her and tell her that what she'd heard was the most ridiculous lie ever conceived ...but that day never came. And with each passing hour, she felt the love of her life slipping further and further out of her possessive grip. Nothing she did seemed to get his attention anymore.

"...Stevie. What's the matter?" she asked sympathetically as her hand gently rubbed his back as if she were completely clueless but in the back of her mind, she hoped tossing him a line would help him latch on. Besides ...he was quickly running out of chances to come clean.

"Oh, nothing-nothing. Everything's fine!" Steve insisted merrily with an easy smile, forcing himself to zip up his emotional armor enough to keep their date as eventless as possible. This little minx was far too perceptive after all. "Just have a lot on my mind ... I still haven't finished that doggone brain booster for my midterm project. I can't find an isotope that would bond well with the acetylcholine neurotransmitter. It's driving me a little batty."

As if she'd been bitten by a love bug, Myra flinched with a soft gasp, her arousal instantly triggered by all those ... _big words_. Even though she knew he wasn't being honest, it seemed no matter how mad she could get, all he had to do was recite scientific venacular and her horny button was pressed. "Oh, my precious stars. I just _love_ it when you speak ... _chemically_ to me," she purred as she began to nuzzle her face into his neck, which was enough to activate Steve's dormant interest, perking as he felt the heat of her breath graze along his neck and to his ear, where she seductively whispered. "Say …' _acetylcholine'_ … again."

... _Doggone it_. He didn't want to _feel_ right now! But the one thing he knew kept him leashed to her besides her overwhelming aggression was her ability to heighten sensations within him that he never got to explore otherwise... and with her being his only outlet in that regard, her seductive antics had become quite irresistable over the years. Given a brief taste of those sensations, he couldn't help the urge to pick up the line she cunningly threw. Hooking a brow at her, he crooned provocatively, " _Acetylcholine_ …"

Fireworks sparked up her spine with a delicious shudder and she giggled like a madwoman, incensed by the sensual sound of those syllables as she cuddled against him to completely invade his proximity. "Oo-o-o-oooo! …You're so _bad_ ," she purred against his ear again as a hand massaged his chest with a greedy caress.

There were times when her ravishing truly frightened him and other times when he'd be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. What he found interesting this time around was that he felt neither... in fact, his indifference was so internally cemented that she could have stripped bare and he wouldn't have cared. So as far as he could tell, he'd somehow become numb to those sensations she'd so skillfully mastered evoking in him. Not even the heat of her tongue as it begin to snake across his earlobe seemed to be enough to arouse his interest.

What he noticed instead was that the more she touched him, and now began to kiss along his neck... the more he wanted to just hide in a suit of armor... and that was disappointing. He could have really used a worthy distraction right now. So with a heavy, despondent sigh, his shoulders rose his ears to deny her access as he politely leaned away. "Ehh... I'm not really in the mood right now, Laura…"

...Both of their faces dropped quicker than a warhead.

A flash fire couldn't have dissolved Myra's alluring smile faster than the sound of that name ...and Steve didn't even have to see her face to feel the heat of rage radiating off of her laser glare as the fury in her eyes burned a hole through his head. As if he'd suddenly combusted, she jolted upright in alarm and leaned out of his space in a millisecond, sizing him up in disgust.

" _MYRA_!" he shouted abruptly as his eyes widened to saucers, immediately attempting to reverse the horrid trick his mind just played on him. Fearful of her wrath, his shoulders rose even more as he cowered with regret. "MYYYRRRA," he repeated slowly, hoping she was clear that he knew her name. To demonstrate that, he proceeded to spell it. "…M-Y-R-A — Myra...who's Laura?!" He gave a dramatically animated shrug that would put Charlie Chaplin to shame.

...But when the silence became too thick and he felt like he would choke on the tension that became denser by the second, he deflated in shame and slowly snuck a look in her eyes ...and the wrathfully frightening, unblinking glare she gave him made his heart sink — he just _knew_ he would turn into a pillar of salt any second now. _Uh oh._

"...Oh, boy," he lamented to himself with a rueful shake of his head. "I _knew_ I should've brought my body bag." Because he was dead. Dead as a doorknob. _Siiiiiiigh_. "Farewell, world." His eyes averted to the heavens as he silently recited his last rites... because the apocalypse would _not_ be pretty.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 13..._


	13. The Good Ol' Daze

_**Chapter 13: The Good Ol' Daze**_

 _Summary: Steve and Myra 'discuss' the obvious problems lingering in their relationship while Laura is forced to reflect on her recent decisions._

* * *

"Aaah-aaaah-AAAAHH! — _Myra!_ OWIE!" Shrill shrieks of Steve's nasally falsetto echoed across the shores of the beach as he was helplessly sanctioned to his furious girlfriend's persecution. Lying prone, he was pinned to the ground by her weight as she sat on the base of his spine, viciously wringing both of his arms out of their sockets as she tangled them behind his back.

She had always been so much stronger than he was and she'd managed to force his surrender pretty quickly ...she would stop short of maiming him if it meant getting him to wake up and realize who his true love was supposed to be. It seemed as though she was running out of tactics to employ beyond physical torture.

But because she'd been pressing his buttons for many years, she was actually tormenting him with very little effort, the eerie smile painting her features almost easy-going as she made a pretzel out of double-jointed his arms. "What did I tell you would happen the _last_ time you called me _that_ , Stevie?" she asked sweetly as she gritted with fury, holding his arms in their agonizing twist until Steve's shrieks wheezed out in gasps of distress.

"I know-I know! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it — OW!" he strained as he desperately tried to yield in abdication with every surrender tactic he could think of. He probably would have waved a white flag if he had one on hand. "Uncle- _UNCLE!_ ...S.O.S! ...911! ...MAYDAY! I grovel at your feet, Your Majesty!"

"SAY IT!" Myra demanded savagely, her sing-songy voice eerily bitter as she tugged a little harder. "Say _I'm_ your Goddess! Make it music to my ears!"

Given the password to her mercy, he parroted her demands without hesitation, his voice so shrill that it could crack glass. "Ow-ow-ow — _you're my Goddess!_ MY ONE AND ONLY SOUL DWELLER!" It definitely hadn't been the first time he'd been physically overwhelmed by her and he immediately recalled what happens every time he made the mistake of reminding her who was really on his mind. Myra didn't unleash on him often but when she did, it was more formidable than judgment day. "Aaaaaah! Stop it, Myra, you know I've got brittle bones!" he hollered in a final desperate attempt to be spared.

Soon enough, Myra's blind fury began to gradually deplete, as it always did when her compassion for her love bug overwhelmed her ability to stay angry at him. Coming her senses, she recognized the pain she was causing him and her heart bled for him almost immediately. It was times like this she was forced to wonder why she was so impulsive — her tendency to flip her crazy switch always seemed to bite her in the rear. And she knew torturing him wouldn't be enough to convince him to love her.

With a heavy sigh, she exhausted her dominance and released his arms, sliding off of his back to stand at her feet. She slowly began to pace across the blanket, his eyes despondent as she regarded him dejectedly.

Granted clemency from imminent death, Steve scurried from beneath her and sat against the tree trunk, clenching his chest trying to catch his breath, thanking his lucky stars for surviving. Rolling his sore shoulders, he was momentarily too distracted with unwinding his arms to see her suddenly charge towards him to land a few fuming last licks across his head and shoulders. "Oh, I can't believe you! How could you do this to me?!"

"Ow! OW!" he shouted in recoil, attempting to block her blows with his aching arms as he used the tree for support to get to his feet. Fleeing just might be a last option after all but he hid behind the trunk for the time being. "Hey-hey! Domestic violence is not the answer here!" he asserted, meekly standing his ground in an attempt to subdue her fury.

"You better be glad I didn't make you walk the plank, mister!" she seethed once she stopped hitting him, planting her balled fists on her hips. As much as she was taking her anger out on Steve, she secretly wished it was Laura subjected to the heat of her rage-storm. Unfortunately, she knew doing so directly would only push her honey further away from her. It was the reason she always resorted to a gambit of underhanded ploys instead.

As for Steve, well... it's not like he didn't think about jumping in the lake to begin with but he didn't necessarily protest — he knew he was at fault for following the tides of his heart while taking advantage of hers in the process. It's not like he hadn't warned her about his profound weakness for Laura but he knew his girlfriend's fury towards him was justified. It always had been.

" _Pleeeease_ , just calm down, Myra! I-I can explain!" he pleaded with earnest as he bravely stepped from behind the tree to face his blunder head on.

Myra had been extremely patient with him for years considering how many times he'd promised her to redirect all that blind passion in her direction. As of lately, not only was that patience slipping through her fingers, so was her ability to contain her frustration over it. "I already know something's going on between you two, Steven. Something's _always_ going on between you and that heart-hoola-hoopin' hussy!"

 _Boy,_ did he wish that were true. For a split second, his eyes were wistfully pensive, regretfully recalling the exact moment he realized he was the probably the most miserable failure at romance that ever was, lamenting the brief glimpse he'd been afforded into an impossible future with his lady love. Of course, his thoughts weren't verbalized, only the conclusion they brought him to. "…Actually, there isn't, I _assure_ you," he replied, monotone and disgruntled.

"Oh, no? You sure forgot my name pretty quickly, which is kind of ridiculous considering I just licked your eardrum clean," Myra spat with a bitter sneer, her arms crossing beneath her sternum as she took a dominant step towards him.

And Steve bowed down immediately, retreating with a submissive step back as he snapped out of his daydreams and returned to the task of extinguishing the fire he'd started. "No, there isn't! I haven't even really talked to Laura in over a week and we live under the same roof!"

"Oh, you haven't?" she asked with an incredulous cant of her head, her voice sweetening out of nowhere. She feigned a contemplative scowl as an index finger tapped her chin. "Hmm. I wonder _whyyyy_... oh, that's right!" And she fired the ammo she'd been packing all week, confronting him with what they both already knew. "Maybe it's because she didn't remember putting her sloppy sailor lips all over you — _again_?!"

 _GAAAASSSSSSSP!_ Steve recoiled as his jaw hit the ground, the wheezing gasp sucking in all the air the cool breeze had to offer. "How'd you know about that?!"

"Oh, don't you worry your handsome head about that, schmoopsie-poo. I have my sources," she replied as her eyes narrowed, her aura becoming eerily calm once her suspicions were finally confirmed. "I may be heartbreakingly _gorgeous_ , but that doesn't make me a scarecrow in search of a brain." Her chin lifted to the heavens as she gave her hair a proud flip over her shoulder.

For a moment, Steve was genuinely confused on how she could have possibly found out — he knew he hadn't said a word to anybody about the entire dilemma since it happened. That must've meant Laura was the culprit... if that was the case, what did it mean? If she was so drunk and didn't remember what happened, why would she tell anyone? If Myra knew, then who else knew about it? Was this really all just another heartless prank? He sighed in frustration as he opted to cut short his path to discovery right then and there _._

It barely mattered anymore because right now, he was busted like a hot corn kernel. Left with no options but to admit his indiscretion, he flailed in defeat and sunk in his shame. "…. _Okay!_ Okay, it's true! After I picked her up from the party that night, she laid a big, juicy one on me. But… it didn't mean anything!" he reassured her with a stern chop of his arm, as if demonstrating the line that was drawn. "Nothing's going between us …as you said, she doesn't even remember it happened." ... _Or so she claims._ He gave an embittered twist of his mouth as he considered the glaring implications of Laura's betrayal. And to think that he got sucker-punched for that...

Now that the sickening knot of jealously and rage that had settled in Myra's gut all week had been remedied with the truth, she began to simmer with a sense of vengeance as she regarded him with a disconcerted shake of her head. "And you weren't even gonna tell me, were you? Steve Q. Urkel, I am so disappointed in you — what would the children think?" _Blink_. Steve peered at her with a repulsed frown. He was always thrown off by her tendency to fly off the rails into fantasy land. "How do you think they'd feel to know that they're Daddy walked out on them before they were even born?"

Just when he thought she couldn't possibly be more repelled by him, she once again proved him wrong with her attempts to subliminally brainwash him with the idea that children were in their near future. And as always, he was compelled to remind her of the contrary, brimming with sarcasm as he retorted, "Jeez Louise, Myra …I wouldn't think they'd say much since their ability to speak is _imaginary_."

...Well, it was worth a shot. Her shoulders sank and her dejected stance became helpless, her bottom lip quivering as she began to pout. Steve instantly softened, his resolve weakened by her puppy-dog stare. "Stevie …do you love me or not?"

As overbearing as Myra could be, Steve still had quite the sweet spot for her as well being that he'd shared many memorable experiences with her. And she was always unapologetically proud to be standing next to him. Despite being incapable of loving her in that way, he could be nothing but gracious for everything she'd done for him... and now remorseful for hurting her feelings. It kept him stuck between a rock and a hard place when it came to showing her that he did appreciate her.

"…More than a pool of melted cheddar, sunshine!" he insisted as he gallantly closed the tense gap between them, his innate compassion surfacing as he gently reached her for hands. Subdued and sullen, she allowed him hold them and he appealed to her apologetically. "…And I know I haven't been showing you that recently and I'm sorry. I've just… been preoccupied —"

" _Bewitched_. Go on, say it!" Myra spat as she suddenly berated him with a breathless chant of abracadabras of her own, impassioned by her thirst to settle the score with her nemesis. "Say that evil jezebel has you under a spell of monstrous proportions and always has! I say off with her head! Send her into the pits! Toss her to the lions! Purify the vile uncleanliness at the stake in a trial by fire!"

 _Oh, here we go again._ Predictably derailed by her impassioned petition, all Steve could do was sigh impatiently... which only caused Myra to squeeze his hands as discipline for his resistance. "Ow!" He winced as he quickly snatched his hands from her firm grip to rub his sore knuckles, reflexively retorting, "Simmer down, woman, this isn't Salem and we're not in the 17th century!"

Oh, she begged to differ. Smirking pleasantly, she raised her shoulders in an innocent shrug as her devilish eyes twinkled with ill intent. "…We _could_ be … you still have that time machine, right?"

"Myra!" Steve exclaimed, taken aback by the ghastly suggestion. This girl never failed to shock him with her Evil Empress antics.

"Ohh, honey munch, I just don't understand!" she whined as she began to have a kindergarten tantrum, stomping and flailing like a five-year old. "Why have I always been second to her? Why can't you just realize I'm more woman than five of her, shove me behind that boulder over there and start spawning our future with reckless abandon already?!" she griped and pined as she pointed indicatively to a nearby wall of rock by the shore... well, she couldn't possibly find a way to be more blunt than that.

… _Yeah_ , he wasn't even going to entertain her inappropriate suggestions; he barely had the wits to keep up with her as it is! All he could do was beg for mercy. "… _I'm sorry,_ Myra! If it's any consolation, I had no idea any of this was going to happen and I _certainly_ didn't provoke it!" he insisted adamantly to absolve himself from direct blame, but he knew he was only being partially accountable. Surrendering to his guilt, his head hung a little in shame as followed up timidly with, "…But, I admit, I also didn't stop it and I could have. I _should_ have." Perhaps if he'd been more responsible in that regard, he wouldn't feel like his heart was made of glass right now.

"…Did you like it?" Myra asked stringently with a curious cant of her head, the chime in her voice acerbic, raising a bizarre inquiry spooky enough to send chills up Steve's back.

"…Huh?!" he hiccuped in surprise once the cloud of contempt for himself passed over long enough to stir his perplexity towards her irrational line of questioning.

"C'mon, Stevie, tell me!" she demanded as she began to stalk him for answers, causing him to retreat as she inched closer to him, her arms folded sternly in front of her. "After all, you seem to be relentlessly drawn to her dumpster chomps — _was it good?_ I hope she tastes like a rusty sewer pipe."

"But, I —"

"And how about your little _'pillow talk'_ session?!" she interjected tightly to point out the indiscretion he hadn't even mentioned yet, causing Steve to recoil in consternation. Now who told her about _that?! "_ Next thing you'll tell me is you had a pack of Marlboros for the occasion, right?!"

 _Awww, jeez._ As far as he'd been aware, that magical moment had been tucked away as his and Laura's little secret and yet somehow Myra knew everything that happened that night. Either this girl was psychic …or Laura didn't respect their friendship as much she'd claimed. Both notions had his attention momentarily held hostage by speculations as he paused with a knit in his brow. His pensiveness was short-lived, however, as Myra closed the remaining gap between them to confront him nose-to-nose, raising on her tip-toes just to crowd his space. "RIGHT?!"

"Okay-okay!" he conceded submissively, lifting his hands to create a suitable barrier between him and her mania, seeking the dial on her volume controls. Well, since she was adamant about putting him on the spot… he paused to consider the best way to put this. And considering that he couldn't attempt to lie right now if he wanted to, he tried his best to carry on his explanation as cautiously as possible. "...Uh …uh, w-well, see —"

" _Silence!"_ she belted abruptly,no sooner than he began to open his mouth to speak. Her fingertips quickly clamped around his lips to keep all that truth from spilling out, causing him to choke on an anticlimactic mumble. Aghast, she turned her head away dramatically as if shielding her eyes from sin. "…I don't wanna know that! Why would I wanna know that?!" Now angrier for even asking, she seethed in frustration, released his face with an impulsive shove that had him back-peddling off balance and stepped away from him to continue pacing like her veins were flowing with lava.

" _Yeeeow!_ " Steve bellowed as he went stumbling backwards, barely catching hold of one of the low-hanging tree branches for support before he could fall. But as always, God wanted a laugh and decided to snap the branch, sending him flying onto his back with the bushy branch falling on top of him. And of course, he got tangled in the spidery, leafy twigs.

"…Go ahead, Myra!" he shouted in frustration as he desperately tried to unravel from the branches, rolling to and fro across the blanket, barely getting his words out amidst the comical struggle. "Yell, scream, sound the trumpets, let it _aaaalllllll_ out!" Somehow managing to get to his feet, he finally shook the remainder of his leafy prison off of him and gesticulated his surrender with frustrated arm chops and flails, catching Myra's attention long enough to stop pacing and turn towards him. "Let loose and crumble the pillars, send in the pestilence, and burn the flora to the ground! Do what you gotta do and just break up with me already, you have every right to!"

It was then that his aura became somber, calming himself as he sulked, "...Me and my weakling of a heart have it coming after all this time of chasing fruitless orchids. Gotta pay the piper sometime." He shook his head ruefully when a sobering realization descended upon him, accepting the practical consequences sure to befall him... secretly, he was on the fence over whether that was a good thing or not.

" _Ohhh, Stevie_ ," Myra commiserated, her tune of rage morphing so quick it made his head spin. With her outrage replaced with empathy and grace on a dime, she was suddenly twittering sweeter than a hummingbird. Perhaps due to the jolt of fear his words shook through her — it was the first time he'd actually even voiced the possibility of them breaking up ...and, _that_ just won't do. She suddenly was triggered with an urgency to retake the reigns of their tug-of-war dynamic. "I have no intentions of doing any of the above, silly."

...And once again, he was reminded that he wasn't dealing with a _practical_ human being here. Hooking a brow in bewilderment, he couldn't help but wonder... "…Well, why not?" 'Cheating' was a strong word, but he couldn't really find a better label to put on his actions, afterall. He wouldn't be much of a genius if he pretended not to know that.

"Now you know I'm not the type to run away at the first sign of trouble," she reminded him sweetly, clasping her hands in front of her politely. As genial as her body language became, Steve couldn't understand why he was still practically being chased around the tree as she slowly stalked after him yet again, wistfully plotting her revenge as honey rolled off her tongue, "Unlike her, I believe in a little thing called sacrifice. And I mend many a day just because that useless little troll can't keep her body parts to herself. But I don't want you to worry because mama's gonna fix it. Dark forces are amongst you, but this is _war_ and I am strapped and ready to fire, baby."

"Now-now, don't go charging into anything crazy!" he implored as he stood his ground yet again... he knew that dim, unstable twinkle in her eye all too well. Challenging her with facts, he stated his case, "What happened between Laura and I was …perhaps the most unusual and unlikely anomaly in the name of the Grand Unified Theorem… but it might as well have never happened! It was a _big_ mistake and that's all there is to it. No need to stir the cauldron, I _assure_ you!"

If only he wished it were a mistake... in all honestly, if given a chance, he probably would have sent himself through the ringer again if it meant capturing that moment of stillness he'd shared with his true love. But it was starting to feel as hopeless as it looked. Stepping out of his delusion was proving to be a jarring experience.

"Ohhh, but there is, my luscious little love lump," she insisted with a charming grin, finally closing the gap between them completely once he stopped pacing, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and tugging him close to her, not only to make sure her emphasis was heard but to also award herself of the sample of his proximity she had secretly been aching for their entire argument.

Molding herself again him, she confronted him sweetly, the sultry tone of her voice contradicting the hostility of her words. "Because you've made the same mistake _three times now_ and that's three too many. That tramp has struck out more than a convict and I'm roping her to justice!"

"But, you don't understand! Why, Laura isn't the only one at fault here, I've told you before that —" he tried to insist adamantly, hoping rationality would keep her from completely abandoning her senses, only to be cut off by impassioned persistence.

" _Let's just get one thing straight_ , hot stuff..." she interjected sternly as her hand grasped his jaw to tug him eye-level, shooting a determined glare into the reflection cast by the lenses of his glasses. "Sooner or later, you both will _know_ without a shadow of a doubt who these lips _really_ belong to," she purred impishly, before abruptly smashing her lips into his as if to viciously reclaim what was rightfully hers.

"Myr—!" he began to shout before being suffocated by the vice grip of her fatal kiss, overwhelmed by her lioness aggression as she pounced him like the tasty prey he was. One arm reflexively caught her while the other flailed aimlessly as her tackle sent him flying into the tree trunk, shaking the leaves off the branches... He could do little more besides surrender to her ravishing as their tangled bodies slid down the tree trunk and plopped into the bed of leaves now covering the blanket...

...Well, that was the end of that 'discussion', apparently. And after a while, Steve's protests subsided since it was pretty hard to think about much once subjected to a pretty girl's frightening dominance. He _supposed_ he could tuck away his self-pity for another day...

* * *

 _ **A FEW MORNINGS LATER**_

The kitchen of the Winslow household was alight with activity as the family went through the motions of their usual morning routines. Carl and Laura sat at the dining table as they silently nursed their breakfast while Harriette stood by the island counter, pouring a fresh pot of coffee into her mug. Richie and 3J had already left for school and Eddie was just making his way out of the back door after popping the last piece of bacon in his mouth, bidding his parents farewell on the way out.

Clad in his officer's uniform, Carl sat at the head of the table with a newspaper peeled open in front of him, slurping up his last few spoonfuls of milk and Cheerios. He noticed that it was unusually peaceful at the table today and that was when he realized that Steve hadn't come down yet... which was a pleasant surprise considering they were nearly finished eating — he was usually the first one at the table with a handkerchief collar-stuffed and ready to chow down. The thought that he might be down any second compelled Carl to slurp a little faster in order escape a predictable disaster he'd rather avoid this morning.

"Top o' the morning, compadres!" A familiar high-pitched voice rang out merrily as Steve appeared at the bottom step of the stairs with an armful of books hugged against his chest. Acknowleding the jinx, Carl's optimism deflated like a popped balloon almost immediately. Rolling his eyes, all he could do was brace himself as he took a defeated sip of his coffee.

Laura, on the other hand, tried her best to hide the fact that her heart was doing jumping jacks the moment he appeared, succumbing to the lashings of her guilty conscience...just as it had done every time she'd seen him since that night. She'd been on a mission to cover her tracks and since Steve seemed to have let up on his badgering significantly over the past week, she could only hope that the storm clouds had passed her over.

...That didn't mean she didn't miss his company. Even though she noticed he was keeping his distance, she still couldn't help but acknowledge his presence... not that she could ignore him if she tried, he usually went out of his way to make his presence known whether it was intentional or not.

She snuck a peek at him as he walked through the kitchen and noted that she kind of dug his look today — his deep cerulean blue button-up looked brand new and gave him a noticeably distinguished flair and his khaki slacks, though still flooding streams to his multicolored socks, were actually loose enough to allow him to breathe. Hmm.. he had potential. Maybe he just needed a better tailor...

But the moment she noticed him sneek a peek at her as well, her eyes quickly averted to the bowl of cereal in front of her, hoping he didn't catch her staring.

"Good morning, Steve," Harriette greeted with a warm smile as she took her coffee mug and headed for the table, sitting next to Laura.

"Looking absolutely radiant today, Harriette! _Buenas dias_ , Big Guy!" He greeted the heads of the household brightly — evoking only an unenthused grunt in response from Carl — and as he beelined towards the backdoor with his books in tow. "Enjoy the chow, everyone — I'm off!"

Peeking up from her bowl, Laura noticed immediately that not only was he bypassing his usual routine of pestering them to tears, but... he didn't even say good morning to her. Being treated like a ghost, by _him_ of all people, had turned into the most unsettling feeling she'd picked up on since the whole thing started.

After getting to the point where she could literally countdown the seconds to his predictable behavior, it was very off-putting ... _and kinda hot_... to be a fed a different, more dominant and resistant energy from him. Ironically perturbed by the idea that he was evading her, she couldn't help but try to initiate some form of communication. "...Hey, Steve," she greeted meekly just before he reached for the doorknob of the door.

Startled by her unexpected greeting, he somehow managed to miscalculate his distance from the door and ran right into it, his books crashing to the ground as they were knocked out of his grip, falling into a disheveled pile by his feet. He'd been hoping to make an exit before being forced to engage in an awkward exchange with her, but he should have known it'd be a long shot — just being around her turned him into a sack of nerves lately. "Hi, Laura," he replied bashfully before kneeling to gather his books... which was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. It had taken him ten minutes to get them properly aligned in his arms the first time around!

Taking note of his difficulties, Laura's brow knitted in concern as everyone looked on, watching as the books defiantly slid out of his grip over and over again as if they were lathered in butter. "Need some help, Steve?"

"N-no, I've got it — ooof!" he insisted, just before accidentally snatching up one of the textbooks so hard that the stiff cardboard hardcover ripped from the pages, smacking him right in the nose and disorienting him even more. Laura and Harriette cringed while Carl gave a rueful shake of his head. Sometimes it seemed Steve was beyond help in terms of his horrible coordination.

Grunting in frustration as he caught his balance, he finally just paused to inhale deeply and exhale sharply in succession, recalling the advice he'd been seeking in self help books. _Calm down, re-center, try again_... To everyone's surprise, he actually managed to calmly stack the books into his arms correctly this time around... torn pages and all.

"...W-what's the rush? Don't you wanna have breakfast?" ...Laura couldn't believe she was actually trying to bait him to stay but the impulse to stall him seemed to sneak up on her like a flash epidemic and just like the impulse to kiss him that night, it was difficult to resist. ...She smiled nervously at Carl, who shot her a wide-eyed glare and a frantic shake of his head to silence her.

"Oh, not today, turtledove," he replied matter-of-factly, actually having a good reason for being hasty though barely alluding to the fact that he still hadn't gotten his appetite back, "I had an eel smoothie already. It'll hold me over for this quantum mechanics pop quiz I have in about twenty minutes."

"Not even a biscuit? We have some of that vegemite spread you like so much," Laura offered graciously as she gestured to the tray of bread on the table. Harriette quirked a brow at her daughter, perplexed by her uncharacteristic show of hospitality towards a guy that normally irritated her to the point of tearing her hair out.

"Eh, no, but save me one anyway. Gertrude might get hungry later," Steve replied nonchalantly he began to carefully reach for the doorknob, focused in on his mission to make it through the door without breaking anything.

"...Who's Gertrude?" Laura asked with a knit of brow, for a split second hoping he wouldn't say some mystery, basketcase girl she'd never met. It oddly reminded her of the time Steve got his first girlfriend and how bothered she'd been by that. To her relief...

"My pet porcupine," he clarified with a nod as he held the door open with his foot, clutching to his books with all his might as he tucked the stack beneath his chin to keep them from tumbling again. "Don't want her wrecking havoc in the tomato garden again. She's feisty when she's famished."

Harriette gave an exasperated sigh as she began to dig into her cereal in defeat... so _that's_ what's been ruining her beautiful garden. Never a dull moment with an Urkel living under their roof. "Better hope she knows how to run from a broom," she remarked sarcastically to Steve, who could only shrug apologetically.

The closer he got to actually departing, the more gracelessly impulsive Laura's urge to stop him became. It was as if his avoidance had invoked a craving for his pestering... or perhaps even a reminder of the way things used to be. "Wait, Steve..." she croaked before she could stop herself, hesitating just short of blurting an apology or the fact that she missed him since it was the first meaningful things that came to mind.

But she knew doing so would only cement her guilt ...so nothing but silence fell from her parted lips as she stared at Steve pensively, fearful that the situation was simply beyond repair at this point. Never in the fourteen years of knowing him had she ever felt this self-conscious and uncertain around him... well, maybe except for the time they saw each other naked.

"I gotta go, Laura. I'll see you later," was his dejected reply as he caught cues of the guilt she tried to hide, his disappointment skillfully masked in the merriment only she could recognize as a mask.

He had no plans on avoiding her forever. In fact, just looking at her filled him with nothing but a sense of serenity despite the sting of his heartbreak — which was becoming a little duller and more manageable everyday, but that didn't mean he had much to say to her at the moment. He'd just rather afford his time to less futile ventures, also known as distractions. At least until he could figure out what his next move would be... or even if there would be a next move.

Their somber gazes lingered just long enough to exchange a silent thought... an unspoken feeling that could only be described as mutual regret... or perhaps mutual longing. Without another word, Steve stepped outside of the threshold and pulled the door up behind him. They all silently waited for a crash or a yell as a result from blind clumsiness for several seconds... surprisingly, it never came.

"...Never thought I'd see the day Steve didn't beg to join us for breakfast. Crazy thing is, I was _almost_ considering letting him this time," Carl remarked delightfully, the awkward moment completely undetected as he chuckled at the victory of being able to go to work dry and ache-less for once. Placing his hat on his head, he stood from the table and set the newspaper down, circled around the table and land kisses on his daughter and wife's cheeks on his way towards the door to the living room. "Bye, babe. Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, Dad..." Laura replied sullenly as she placed her chin in her palm, falling into the deep thought while she began to mindlessly spoon what was left of her soggy cereal.

The tension may have flown right by her husband but Harriette knew her daughter like the back of her hand and she couldn't help but be slightly concerned for her noticeable dip in mood. "Bye, honey! Have a great day," she said distractedly as Carl made his way out, turning her attention to Laura once it was safe for girl talk. She recognized that look in her daughter's eyes — she felt a 'no men allowed' conversation waiting to happen. "Are you okay, honey?"

 _Sigh._ She _reeeaaally_ didn't want to discuss this ball of romantic confusion with her mother. Unfortunately, she knew without a doubt that she was the only one she knew who might have some real insight. Her mother had never failed her in the past when it came to giving great advice and in the end, she always seem to understand... _to a certain degree_. The trick here was to not reveal too much... "...Mom," she said as she tried her best to perk up and not seem too anxious. "I think I need some advice."

"What is it, honey?" Harriette asked, setting her bowl aside to give her daughter her full attention... and secretly brace herself for any incoming bombing raids.

"Remember when you told me about that other guy you chose Dad over?" she asked timidly, not exactly sure how else to rope her into the details gradually.

"Yeah?" Harriette replied, patiently awaiting the punchline, "What about him?"

"...How did you make that decision?"

...Well it was better than hearing that she had a secret pimp or something. "Honey, don't you think it's a little early for prehistoric history?" Harriette quipped with relief. While she was still slightly confused, she was always relieved that the topic of conversation wasn't threatening to her health since she couldn't help but worry about her children's safety constantly.

"No, you're right," Laura dismissed with a shake of her head. Maybe she should just try to forget about it right now anyway, she also had a test to take later in the afternoon. "We'll talk about it later."

...And that usually meant something deeper was beneath the surface. Harriette also knew her daughter enough to know she preferred to be thrown a bone as opposed to taking the leap herself. So, she put two and two together and took her best guess at the problem. "Are you having problems with Stefan again?"

 _Bingo_. Laura deflated with relief that she guessed correctly. Sometimes she could appreciate it when her mom could pick her brain like that, it made it so much easier to get things off of her chest... _sometimes_. "I guess you could say that. I don't know what to call it, really."

"Well, what's going on?"

She paused as she reflectively searched for the right words ...the right _ambiguous_ words. And she could only find one phrase that summed up the main problem concerning her burning guilt towards drifting away from Stefan, who had loved her just as passionately as Steve had over the time he'd known her. "I kinda feel like ...we're not close as we used to be."

Harriette nodded knowingly as the nature of her worries came to the forefront, at least on the surface. And she opted not to sugarcoat the reality of growing up, knowing doing so would only hinder that growth. "That happens, Laura. Especially at your age. You two are getting older — becoming adults. You're paving your own ways. There will come a time when you'll have to make a decision on whether you wanna stay together or not. You were gonna hit that crossroads sooner or later."

...Of course that was the last thing Laura wanted to hear but she knew it was the truth. She hadn't felt like 'herself' in months now and she was losing her grasp on the clarity of her identity a little more every day, including the way she looked at her relationships. It was having a very unfortunate domino effect on every other aspect of her life. "…Well, that's comforting," she griped sarcastically, before cautiously tossing the key ingredient of her woes into the mix. "The thing is, Mom ...there's somebody else involved."

"Oh, really? Stefan's not cheating on you, is he?" Harriette took another guess towards probing at the real issue. It would have definitely explained why she'd been sulking around for the last week.

"Oh, no, nothing like that...but I think _I_ did," Laura confessed meekly, hoping her mother's objective wisdom would be impactful enough to force her to make a decision... but she still treaded lightly. She didn't want to be _too_ revealing...

"...Laura!" Harriette gasped, knowing her daughter was very aware of a little thing called integrity. Disappointed that Laura was on a slippery slope of her own moral undoing, she scolded her gently. "Now, you know better than that."

"It was just one kiss, Mom!" she insisted adamantly, hoping to put the situation in perspective, though she didn't necessarily expect an explanation to make right. "And I ended it there, but ...I feel horrible. I can tell the other guy took it pretty hard because... I've kinda started to ...have feelings for him too." ... _That's right, keep it vague, Laura. Very vague..._

"Who is this other guy, have I met him?" Harriette asked with a curious furrow in her brow, scrutinizing Laura suspiciously since she could already sense her daughter wasn't being completely truthful. "Does Stefan know about him?"

...Leave it to her mother to make that mission to stay inconspicuous more difficult; she should have known she would try to fish raw details out of her. "...Oh, I think you _definitely_ met him..." Laura said, tip-toeing around specific names, "And Stefan knows _of_ him. But he doesn't know what happened because I haven't told him."

"Is this like when Curtis popped back up last year?"

"…Sorta?"

All Harriette could do was sigh as she patted her daughter's hand sympathetically. She was her age once as well and she remembered how confusing love was during that transition into adulthood... she could only hope Laura was insightful enough to avoid a lot of the same mistakes she made.

"I told you then that playing with other peoples' hearts is a very dangerous game. You can't just kick them around like sandbags. If you don't want to be with Stefan, then why don't you just break up with him?" she suggested, knowing doing so would have been the best thing she could have done for all involved. Sometimes relationships just complicated a young person's development and Harriette saw her daughter's plight as a classic example.

"...But I _do_ want to be with him!" Laura whined insistently, instantly stirred by her intense feelings of fear at the very thought of Stefan not being around her anymore. She may not have seen him often, but when she did, she could have died and gone to heaven every time... unfortunately, there was a counter energy carrying her in totally different direction, as she went on to explain, "It's just lately, the other guy, he ...he's growing on me. And I don't wanna play with either of their hearts but I'm torn! I honestly don't want to choose."

When it was clear Laura wasn't going to reveal the identity of her new mystery guy, Harriette decided not to press her since she knew her daughter was going to completely ignore her advice to break away from relationships altogether anyway. She speculated that it was probably a problem she needed to work out on her own in order for her to get a firm grip on her own maturity. As a mother, she knew she couldn't hold her kids' hands all the time. The best thing she could do sometimes was be a beacon of light and offer encouragement. "You're a beautiful girl, Laura. I'm not surprised that you have so many men flocking to you like bees to honey. But are they the _right_ men?"

"...That's what makes it so hard, Ma," Laura pined as her chin fell back into her palm, staring off wistfully in the distance as she secretly imagined them standing side-by-side, making mental comparisons...which was a little eerie considering she was attracted to two versions of the same guy. "They're both pretty amazing… I don't think all the rest of the men on the planet can amount to either one of them."

 _Oh, Lord._ Harriette only rolled her eyes as she took a final sip of her coffee and rose from the table, having had quite enough of Laura's naivety. She could already see the train wreck in the distance but since her daughter had always been hard-headed, all she could do was be there for her when tragedy struck. But right now she had to be at work and so she hoped a few words of parting wisdom was enough to guide her in the right direction.

"I didn't want to have choose either. But God has a funny of way _making_ you, whether you want to or not," she warned her with an admonishing brow-raise. "If you don't figure this out soon, somebody's gonna get hurt. I suggest you take responsibility and tell them both the truth before that happens." And with that, she leaned over to plant a kiss on Laura's cheek as she grabbed her purse and headed for the back door. "Have a good day in class, honey."

...Eh, well ...so much for profound insight. Now she was more confused than ever. And to express her gratitude, Laura flashed Harriette a weary smile as she made her exit and whimpered to the isolated shame that settled in the empty room... "Thanks, Mom..." Nearly shivering beneath the cold reality of that glaring warning that created a feedback echo in her consciousness, all she could do now was... slump forward and dropped her head into her arms, pining with a low groan of frustration.

 _Go away, feelings... just go away..._

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 14_


	14. Beware the Boomerang

_**Chapter 14: Beware the Boomerang**_

 _Summary: Stefan finally returns from Italy armed with sneaking suspicions… and Laura has a lot of explaining to do._

* * *

 _ **ANOTHER WEEK LATER**_

While it had been difficult for Laura to free herself from the disgrace that she carried around like shackles ever since that night, every day that she successfully maintained her charade of nonchalance around Steve helped put a little more distance between her and all the feelings she'd carried away from her encounter with him.

Ever since her mother handed her the ugly truth on a platter — which she chose to reject as a solution, by the way — she'd been keeping a low profile in hopes that feigning ignorance would be enough to deflect the stigma of her shame altogether, opting to spend most of her nights studying in isolation as opposed to jumping at every invite her friends threw at her to get out of the house. She honestly ached to partake in every distraction that came her way, but found that her guilt would always overshadow the temptation to commit to diversions. After all, the last time she tried that, she almost blew the most important relationships in her life. Actually, she was still unsure if that was the case already.

Steve had been avoiding her like the plague up until yesterday. Even so, their conversation remained surface level and she couldn't decipher why she found herself craving the familiarity she'd found in their odd connection. Ever since that kiss, it felt like she was detoxing from years of his unbridled pestering and the familiar dynamic of their friendship felt completely off. It was surreal and unsettling to feel as though Steve had finally given up on her… but maybe that was a good thing. The closer the day of Stefan's return from Italy crept up on her, the more tyrannical she became towards forcing that false belief onto herself.

It made her proactive in finally reaching out to her boyfriend, despite her fear of confronting any speculations he may have had. Much to her relief, he never brought up his suspicions again, but there was a murky semblance of tension in their conversations. And she certainly detected a hint of irritability in his tone sometimes, even though he still made the effort to remind her that she was still his starlight. But she was also aware that her stress may have had her imagining things.

She had offered to pick him up from the airport the morning he arrived back to Chicago, like she always had, only to be met by the surprise of him declining the offer this time around… which automatically riddled her with anxiety. Even though he promised to stop by later in the day, she couldn't tell if he was throwing a wrench in their usual routine out of spite, indignation, or... what. It made the wait to see him that day almost unbearable. She found her nerves enslaved to a confusing mix of dread and excitement as she waited for the doorbell to ring.

When it finally did and she pulled open the front door to reveal Stefan's tall and dark three-piece-suited frame standing there, she instantly felt weak in the knees. At first she couldn't tell if it was her debilitating anxiety that made her want to buckle but the moment he smiled at her, all she could think about was the way he made her feel every time he came back from a long trip: like the one missing piece of her soul had finally been returned to her and she could finally breathe again.

Besides, he looked so fine, she wanted to just… lick him from head to toe. It seemed no amount of doubt could ever take away the power he had when it came to hormonally ruining her. One of her main concerns had been that her dwellings of attention elsewhere would have somehow built immunity to that power... but nope! As usual, she was like putty in the palm of his hands... which, for a split second, she wasn't sure if that was a precarious thing or not.

"Hey, you," she purred, her hesitant smile twitching into an enchanted grin as a familiar sense of peace his presence always brought fell upon her. Once again, he had succeeded in being the most intoxicating remedy to her anxiety… at least for the time being while she was unsure of how oblivious he was. It was times like this that she wished she could read his mind.

But his actions and his words seemed to tell a different story than the one she'd stressed herself out with all day. To her relief, he seemed just as enamored by the sight of her as she was by him. "Hey yourself, beautiful," he purred in return, not missing a beat as he stepped towards her and gently placed both hands on her waist. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Marveling at her like a rare gem, he paused to heal said soreness as he scanned her from head to toe. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too..." Blushing underneath his penetrating gaze, she welcomed his closeness with a tender caress of his arms as they tightened around her waist, suggestively pulling her against him. Her gut quivered when she got a whiff of Burberry cologne, momentarily dizzied by his aroma and further weakened by his lips as he leaned in to steal a soft, time-stopping kiss from her.

When their lips parted, it took all her strength not to melt right at his feet... _into the abyss of shame_. Pulsing with a distressing mix of arousal and disgrace, it was heart-wrenching to even look him in the eye and she tried to find every reason not to, partaking in an aimless attempt to groom him by picking lint off the of the shoulder of his suit jacket. After he released her long enough to step inside of the living room, she couldn't help but freeze pensively at the door for a few seconds to gather her composure.

It was difficult to push away the rush of mood-killing thoughts that had her subconsciously comparing his kisses to Steve's, which she'd said before were... _different_. She couldn't exactly put her finger on how but she recognized that they both had the ability to row her boat in deliciously unique ways... and that thought only jump-started her anxiety all over again, the butterflies in her stomach frantically bomb-diving to her ankles. After being Stefan-deprived throughout her ordeal, she was suddenly reminded why her confusion had been so formidable in the first place. Recovering from the sobering jolt, she calmly shut the door and followed him towards the couch.

"How's your fever?" Stefan asked casually as he stopped behind the coffee table and pivoted to reach out to her.

Laura scowled in confusion as her hand slowly fell into his grip, her heart thundering against her rib cage in fear that he was somehow referencing the flush of guilt turning her chestnut complexion beet red. "…What fever?"

"…Oh, I forgot, you're just naturally hot," Stefan quipped wryly with a smirk that kindled her arousal. His perfectly-timed pick-up line suddenly made her wish he wasn't _so_ damn sexy... that would have at least made the intensity of her confusion a little less frightening.

Involuntarily chirping with a schoolgirl giggle, all she could do was blush like an infatuated idiot. "Oh, _Stefan_..." At least one thing seemed certain: if he was mad at her, he sure had a flattering way of showing it. Lowering onto the couch with him, she laced her fingers through his, beaming with the most easy-going smile she could muster. "So! ...How was your trip?"

"It was crazy. Longest two weeks of my life," he replied with a cavalier air, making the knot in Laura's stomach twist... by the incisive look in his eyes, she knew immediately that he was indirectly referring to her nebulous behavior that he'd been forced to question during his trip... and her lack of a well-rounded explanation for it.

"...Oh?" she croaked compassionately, trying to hide the many layers of remorse under her innocent mask. She felt a 'talk' on the horizon, but she tried her best to prevent an avalanche. "I'm sorry. When I called the last couple of days, you seemed pretty busy."

"It was hectic, I couldn't get away long enough," he replied with a contrite shrug, though he wasn't shy to bypass the blame in all the miscommunication. Leaning in, he gently held her hand in both of his, tempering his own anxiety as he became solemn, the uncertainty he'd been carrying around the last couple of weeks beginning to show in his face. "...But there's something more important we need to talk about."

Of course she saw _that_ coming but Laura had been holding her breath in hopes that their reunion would be free of any static. Much to her chagrin, she was forced to let go of that breath with a disheartened sigh as he took the liberty in pointing out the elephant in the room. "I know," she admitted meekly as her shame bubbled to the surface, but she remain composed since she'd been practicing what she would say to him all day. And so she immediately snatched the reigns of the conversation before he could get too inquisitive. "Before you say anything, I wanna apologize to you ... _again_ , for how I've been treating you. I haven't been myself lately…"

It was like she took the words right out of his mouth and his brows lifted in surprise. Well, at least she didn't deny it like he'd expected her to. "…I noticed."

"And it's not fair to you," she continued, humbly floating on the surface of her blame so as to carefully avoid sinking deeper into it. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you and I just want you to know that it's _not_ you, it's _me_." ...Classic 'guilty-as-charged' line. She wanted to cringe. Catching the dubious twitch of Stefan's brow, she tried her best to express her accountability... with the truth combed through nice and neat. "I thought I needed some space but all that did was prove to me how much I really need you. Can you forgive me?" She shrunk innocently, hoping the finer details didn't matter as much this time around... of course, she was wrong.

They had been together for over three years and for the life of him, Stefan couldn't figure out why he felt like he was courting her all over again. The first time seemed easier than it should have been but over the last few months, it was as if he was chasing something that was already his. He'd had to convince her more than once that she always came first and yet now she was considering taking... 'space'? His stomach dropped at the implications, concerned by the fact that he originally had no idea that her 'issue' was _that..._ serious.

"Laura ...what's wrong?" he asked gently, his tone on the edge of stoic and sympathetic... he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer. Giving her hand an affectionate squeeze, he tried his best to keep her comfortable enough to open up to him. "We used to tell each other everything but lately..." He paused, fearful that verbalizing the full thought would jinx it into reality. Invalidating himself, he decided to just find out the source of her stress. "If something's going on, why can't you just tell me? Does it have something to do with school or work? Something happen in the family?" he asked, probing gently with best guesses. There were only a few things he knew of that could pull her attention away and so he considered most viable reasons.

 _..._ Looks like her mother wasn't the only one who knew how to get answers out of her. "No, nothing like that," Laura replied as she nervously gnawed on her bottom lip. She tried her best to keep her poker face intact as he began the third-degree, but all she could do was submit to the internal torture her shame was putting her through, knowing full well that he deserved an explanation... unfortunately, she couldn't find the words outright and she avoided his gaze in desperate search of a decent response. Staring down at her hands as he held them, she hoped he didn't feel her palms sweating.

"A fight with Max?" he asked with a cant of his head, trying to recapture her wandering gaze.

"Oh, no, we're fine!" she asserted with a shaky smile, following up with her best attempt at comic relief, "She doesn't start getting cranky until around Valentine's Day. Y'know. Mating season."

But Stefan was far from amused since he was no closer to an answer. With a discouraged sigh, he was forced to consider the only other painful option he could think of. The only one all the clues pointed to. "…Then there's someone else."

 _Aw, crap_... Shocked by his perceptiveness, she blanched as her gaze snapped up in alarm and her guilty eyes stared at him vacantly. Detecting the skepticism all over his face, the knots in her stomach tied so tight that she felt like the truth was in danger of being choked right out of her.

She felt a reflex to gag but the anxious nausea was skillfully filtered through her denial ...and she belted a loud, obnoxious guffaw instead, keeling over with a breathless squeal as if she'd heard the funniest joke ever told. "HAAA-HA-ha-ha! ….… _What?!_ _Pffft!_ " She scoffed dramatically with a slap of her knee...

 _Blink._ Stefan looked on in perplexed silence as she erupted into hysteria. He'd love to know what was so funny because he was as serious as an aneurysm.

"Of course not!" she insisted as she recovered from her outburst, beaming with an innocent grin. "Who else could there _possibly_ be?! You _really_ are funny, boy." Chirping with a few more nervous giggles, her amusement diminished once it was very clear that he didn't get the joke. Becoming very aware of her perilous position on the chopping block as he stared at her impatiently, she sighed and tried her best to humbly pick up the pieces. "Sorry."

Laura knew she was running out of apology credits. She could tell by the look on his face that he would only accept so many before he charged her to the game. Walking a thin line of vagueness, she gave his forearm an affectionate caress, carefully exposing the tip of the iceberg. " _..._ It's just ...we're growing up and we're still getting to know ourselves, y'know? I'm a little scared that things are gonna change and that doesn't sit well with me. But …I'm not exactly helping that with my actions." Jeez, making this all sound credible was turning out to be way harder than she thought it would be. Too bad she was in her own house or she may have made a break for it.

Of course he knew she wasn't being completely honest but her reluctance to tell him the root of the problem brought him to a dead-end and he felt frustration begin to gnaw at him. "...I'm really worried about you, Laura," he said solemnly after a beat, hoping expressing his concerns would alleviate all the tension. "If I'd known you were so stressed, I would've stayed here and we could've worked this out sooner. The only way I can know something's wrong is if you tell me. And with all the mixed signals, I don't know what to think."

"I know. You have every right to feel that way. You didn't do anything wrong… you never do." And she certainly didn't blame him for coming that conclusion. It was just she hadn't quite found the courage to come that conclusion herself. The last thing she wanted to do was uproot her entire life based on a feeling she hoped was just a very weird and persistent phase. To her, the mistakes she made were worth ratifying... even if it meant completely abandoning her own rule book.

"I don't want you to think I value my career, or anything else, over you. Trust me, the only part that's worth it most of the time is the paycheck," he reassured her as his thumb grazed her knuckles gently, bringing up the main insecurity he detected in their relationship. "I didn't know you felt you had to let loose while I was gone or I never would've taken that job." Even though he knew she always got a little depressed when he left, the last thing he expected was for her to get sloppy drunk, which he still suspected was the reason she came at him like the Hungover Hulk the morning he arrived in Italy. He would never impose any 'rules' on her, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried about her being taken advantage of when he wasn't around.

Laura could tell in his tone that his suspicions about her 'letting loose' was as concerning as the thought of there being another guy. She instantly wished a tornado would randomly touch down and sweep her away. "Oh, yeah ... _that_ ," she whimpered hesitantly, attempting to parry his suspicions with the cover story she'd plotted. "About that, I think you _might've_ jumped to conclusions. See, _I_ didn't get drunk... _Max_ did!" she insisted innocently, finding the courage to dishonestly redirect her blame in a desperate attempt at refurbishing his trust.

...And Stefan felt even more confused than when walked through the door. His brows knitted as he stared at her quizzically. "...Max?" Well, he didn't see that one coming. But all angles considered, it was definitely a little easier to believe since Max was usually the one who was armed with peer pressure.

"You know that scene is way too heavy for me, you said it yourself! Max is far braver than I am. And-and-and once she started, she just wouldn't let up, y'know? Did more guzzling than a gas tank," she stammered tentatively, giving a sage nod to affirm her innocence. When she saw him beginning to take the bait of her lie, she became even more insistent... possibly to a fault since she couldn't stop herself from blurting exaggerations. "At one point, I had to wrestle her in the middle of the street and pry the bottle out of her hand with a crowbar!" ... _God_ , she felt like such a moron. It took all of her strength not to collapse in utter disgrace but she kept her halo nice and polished.

"...Bottle?!" Stefan recoiled in gullible shock, reeled in by her deceit. It seemed to her that he trusted her more than she originally thought; she couldn't believe he was actually falling for this... it triggered a reflex to add even more spice to the fabrication, pushing the creative envelope.

" _Whiskey_. Y'know, the super dark, heavy stuff they gave amputee patients in the Wild West." ...Well, that was pushing it over the _cliff_. Even so, she nodded again emphatically, desperate to salvage the many blunders she'd been trying to bury for weeks. "I didn't mean to go off on you that morning, I was just so tired and cranky after having to drag that alkie back and forth to the toilet all night… barely got any sleep." Oh yeah, she was going to Hell for sure.

To Stefan, the tomfoolery of her tale surely sounded a bit... much. But what choice did he have but hope that she respected their relationship enough to stay honest with him? She seemed remorseful and he wasn't the type to dwell on the negative, not when they had so little time afforded them already. Choosing to believe her, all he could do was shake his head ruefully and shrug dismissively. The keyword there is _choose_. "Wow. I didn't know Max was so wild. Well… I'm relieved she's okay but that sounds kinda dangerous."

... _Whew. That was close_. When Laura was sure she'd convinced him, she felt rejuvenated by the tiny light at the end of the tunnel. Safely finding her way out of purgatory, she felt every organ in her body decompress with relief. "Oh, don't worry, I kept an eye on her," she assured him, adding garnish on the goody-two-shoes myth everybody swore by, resisting the urge to wipe her brow to see if she was sweating. "But she's good as new now! And she learned her lesson, all right. I _guarantee_." _Boy, did she ever..._ She made a mental note to herself to buy Max a new purse or something — she owed her _big time_.

 _Hmm_... something was still not quite right about this. For some reason, despite signs that the tension between them was dissolving, he couldn't bring himself to relax. He still felt tight with doubt — it felt more nerve-wracking then standing in front of a talent scout. "...So ...you're not...?" he faltered, the thought halted by his anxiety. _...Not what? Cheating on me? Thinking of leaving me? Falling out of love with me?_ He shot down one haunting fear after another, unable to articulate the daunting possibilities.

But he didn't have to because it seemed Laura could read his mind. " _No_ , Stefan," she interjected earnestly, her pleading eyes meeting his doubtful stare for the first time the whole conversation. Turning towards him, she lifted a hand to graze her knuckles along the ridge of his jaw, the sincerity of her touch giving him the permission to mellow out ...slightly. She may have just lied more than wet concrete, but the only thing she could know for sure in her maze of unresolved feelings was the way she still felt about him. "I love _you_."

And it was the most honest thing she'd said since he came over… would she have just dragged her moral credibility through the gutter so hard if it wasn't true?

The longer she looked into his eyes, the more she ached for atonement. Stefan was the most self-assured guy she knew and she saw nothing but insecurity behind his gaze. She hated herself for making him feel so uneasy and she owed him more than words to convince him of her feelings for him... and _fast_ before the threads of her hypocrisy had a chance to unravel. Before he could respond, her fingers slid to his chin to slowly reel him in closer to her, this time stealing a kiss from him... one that oozed with remorse and yearning. And soon enough, no more words needed to be said.

Even though Stefan was still not as informed as he would have liked, he was just as entranced by her as she was by him and her lips was all he needed to remedy his worries. He conceded to her spell and allowed his doubts to gradually fall away as their kiss grew intense and impassioned, slipping an arm around her shoulders as they slowly leaned back against the cushions and free-fell into the embrace of mutual paradise.

And Laura didn't allow herself to be in her head this time, molding herself against his side as they surrendered to the most satisfying make-out session they'd had in quite a while. Despite her downright grimy maneuvers, she knew that every distraction she'd been hiding behind had been the result of desperately searching for _this_ moment of reconciliation and, most of all, the familiarity of their connection. _Anything_ to reestablish in her mind who her heart really belonged to.

After a while, through all of the fog of her confusion, she could find no other focus but what he meant to her. Being in his arms again, and now tantalized by his magnetic charisma, made her feel as though she'd been rescued from imminent emotional ruin. When it came to mending their relationship, she internally rejoiced at the possibility that she successfully dodged a bullet. Maybe, just _maybe_ … everything would be okay after all.

…Perhaps she rejoiced a little too soon since she should have considered just how haplessly she'd been confronted with karma these days. If it wasn't her own feelings getting in the way of their passionate moments, it was something else… like the intrusive visitor who chose to show up at their house at that exact moment, the sudden chime of the doorbell rudely interrupting their kiss. But their lips barely had a chance to detach before the kitchen door swung open abruptly to give way to Eddie's eager jaunt into the living room.

"I'll get it!" he volunteered ardently, pacing with haste towards the front door, pointing at the two lovebirds on the couch as he passed them. "Don't you move," he insisted intently with a wink as he went to grab the doorknob. The lovers deflated with a disappointed sigh as they were forced to leave their cravings unfulfilled for the time being, peering up at Eddie impatiently. And Laura caught that devious look in her brother's eye but didn't think much of it — he was probably expecting Greta and was just being a thirst bucket… she couldn't have possibly been more wrong.

"Hey-hey! Rick, my man! Come on in!" Laura heard Eddie exclaim in excitement to the mystery visitor and she watched as he proceeded to give dap to the guy like he'd known him forever and her brows furrowed with confusion… _Rick_? _…Where do I know that name from?_

"What's up, Eddie?" she heard a _very_ familiar voice reply… and she instantly got chills. She still couldn't see who it was since her brother was blocking the doorway but her spidey-senses were tingling something fierce. It wasn't until Eddie stepped aside long enough to reveal the mystery visitor did her jaw fall into her lap, confronted with the impromptu appearance of the last face in the world she expected to see today. … _What in the name of bloody tarnation is HE doing here?!_

Noting her shocked reaction out of the corner of his eye, Stefan peered at her curiously and quirked a brow. Feeling his bewildered stare, she made extra special care to quickly turn her slack-jaw into an innocent grin that twitched with nervous terror, watching with wide eyes as her ex-boyfriend swaggered his way into the living room with a charming smirk gracing his features.

"Hey, baby," Rick crooned with confidence as he zeroed in on her, standing there like he was patiently waiting for her affection… and she had no idea why! She hadn't seen him over five years! But by his body language and the freshly pressed suit he wore, it was clear that he was feeling himself… _and_ her since he had no qualms about flirting with her in front of her man; as far as he was concerned, Stefan might as well have been invisible. And as this fact became obvious, her reflexes to curb a catastrophe kicked into high gear, lighting a fire under her so hot that she shot up from couch quicker than a missile. _Commence panic mode…_

"…Rick! ...Hi!" she hiccuped apprehensively as she stood, leaving Stefan isolated on the couch with his suspicions resurfacing. And she wanted to collapse in a bundle of nerves as she felt the heat of his scrutiny from where he patiently sat, silently observant to the intriguing scene unfolding before him… she was in the hot seat. God, the timing couldn't have possibly been more dreadful.

Rick stepped in her direction to close the gap between them with his arms extended out to her… both Laura and Stefan quirked a brow, wondering what he thought he was gonna do with _those_.

"Oh, all right — here!" Startled by his aggressive advances, she quickly took one of his extended hands and gave it a polite shake.

By the disoriented look he gave her, it was clear that he'd been expecting far more than a handshake, his eyes still impishly twinkling with other intentions. "Whoa, you _are_ shy."

 _Blink… what on Earth is he talking about?_ As tempted as she was to speculate his meaning by that, her nerves didn't dare allow her to stall in her frantic mission to get this dude as far away from her as possible before Stefan pitched a fit, who she briefly snuck a peek at… and he didn't look very pleased at all. He was pretty much biting his tongue off just to keep his patient demeanor tamed. She could tell by the agitated twitch of his jaw.

But there was no need to be rude… at least until she figured out why her ex-boyfriend was even standing in her living room in the first place. Her mind raced as she tried to find the best way to thread the needle here… her racing nerves had nothing but pleasantries coming to mind. _Platonic_ pleasantries, no doubt. "…Long time no see! Uh, you know Eddie," she said as calmly as she could muster, gesturing to her brother indicatively… who she instantly noticed had gotten comfortable in the armchair like he was in a box seat at the opera. All he was missing was binoculars and popcorn. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the devilish wink… he seemed _far_ too giddy right now.

It was enough to throw off her entire thought process and she found that by the time she turned to her boyfriend to introduce him… she'd forgotten his name! … _Oh, boy._ The unsettling glare he shot her didn't help her brain fart either as she fumbled through her memory for the right syllables. "And this is... uh... this is..."

But when she didn't find it fast enough, Stefan's irritation spilled over before he could check himself and he stood on his feet to solidify his presence as he towered between the two of them. " _Stefan!_ " he interjected sharply, flabbergasted as he regarded Laura with a baffled scowl. She just stuck her tongue in his mouth and she couldn't remember his name? Like, was she serious right now? Why did _he_ feel like the third wheel all of a sudden?!

… _Oops_. She felt like shrinking to the size of a cockroach under his scrutiny, cringing in embarrassment as the smile she feigned became more and more skittish. "…Right. Uh. I'm Laura…" …And she quickly retracted when she realized her blunder, chuckling nervously, "….But of course you already know that. Heh.." Rick just smirked graciously as she stammered through her introductions, which he could care less about. By the way he sized her up like she was the most appealing dessert he'd ever seen, he had other things on his mind.

Since it looked like Laura's mind took a sudden vacation, Stefan became restless and he decided to be far more direct than she was, getting to the point as he took note of that ravenous look in Rick's eyes. "…What's going on here?" he inquired mildly as his narrowed eyes shifted suspiciously between them. He seemed calm enough but Laura knew he was fuming beneath all that suave self-control. Because if the tables were turned, she knew any 'surprise visitors' he had would've been wrestled into the coffee table by now, weave-snatched, nail-scratched, and begging for mercy.

 _Quick! Pick up the slack, Laura!_ "Oh ...Rick's an old friend," she replied indifferently with a dismissive swat of her hand.

" _Ahem!"_ Suddenly, the sound of Eddie's throat clearing erupted among the awkward tension as he took the liberty of 'correcting' her from his devious position on the sidelines. "Isn't he an old ... _BOY_ -friend?" he instigated loudly, laying the emphasis on pretty thick… much to Laura's horror. Her eyes widened as she looked at Eddie with a piercing glower.

 _...Oh, really now?_ Of course, that rattled Stefan's chains even more. Disgruntled, he peered at Laura with a brow quirk, who was using every muscle in her face to keep her innocent grin from faltering. " _Boy_ friend _?_ " he parroted tightly.

" _UH-HUH,_ " Eddie emphasized aloud once more to pin the final nail in the coffin, finding way too much pleasure in watching his little sister squirm.

Keeping his irritation on a leash, Stefan simply stiffened his jaw. "...How long ago?" he asked calmly, regarding her intently. He would get to the bottom of it one way or another... and Laura already knew what he was thinking.

"Ohh, loooong, _long_ time ago. I was still carrying my 'Facts of Life' lunchbox," she replied reassuringly, quick on her feet with ammunition to break the ice... she had to be because as she peered at her boyfriend, she couldn't remember the last time she saw that vein on his forehead surface.

 _Mmhm, suuuure._ Stefan just nodded calmly as he scrutinized her skeptically. His infamous coolness on the verge of steaming, it became very difficult for him not to just thumb his nose and raise his dukes, but he found that keeping _Rick_ out of his peripherals helped to keep him from trashing Laura's expired leftovers. …But he considered that maybe he was overreacting. Maybe it was his jet-lag that had him tingling with jealousy for no reason.

Finally finding the perfect segway of silence in that awkward exchange, she quickly redirected their attention to the grand mystery on everyone's mind as she regarded Rick with a befuddled grin, "By the way ... _what are you doing here?_ "

"Changing your life, baby," Rick purred with no hesitation in complete and utter disregard of her 'man'... and gave her a come-hither stare that made her wanna puke.

 _...Say what?_ Stefan snapped around and zeroed in on Rick like a hawk. It was the first time since the doorbell rang that he actually took the energy to size homeboy up with a look that could melt ice. Laura winced as she envisioned nuclear winter, fidgeting nervously. This day was just getting better and better.

"...Ohhhh _, no he didn't_..." Stefan griped aloud to himself as he turned his back on the whole situation. Time to fall back. Sedating himself, he took a meditative walk to a single corner of the living room to remove himself from the equation before he lost his cool. Because Rick was thirty seconds away from meeting his Maker and his suit was way too expensive to get blood on.

It took everything in Eddie's being not to giggle like a madman as he watched the delirium of his wizardry unfold... and everything in Laura's being not to tackle him out of that chair into the Great Beyond. But before she had time to react to how rapidly this nightmare was spiraling out of control, Rick was already stating his position, catching her completely off guard.

"C'mon. Eddie told me you wanted to drop this guy," he said cavalierly as he gestured to Stefan disparagingly… who was mindful to keep his clenching fists in his pockets to keep from unleashing the dragon as he spectated silently from his corner, mostly glaring in disbelief at Laura. Well, that definitely wasn't what she just told _him_ right before wrestling with his tonsils… All that patience? Stefan was slowly coming to the edge of that cliff.

 _She knew it!_ Choking on her immediate reaction, which was to pick up the closet tangible and launch it at Eddie, Laura just stared at Rick like a deer in headlights instead. "He did? ... _YOU DID?!_ " she hissed and gritted at her brother, who batted his puppy-dog eyes innocently, before retraining her perplexed scowl on Rick. "...Why?!"

 _Yes, why?_ Stefan turned his head to lend his ear to the answer. He couldn't _wait_ to hear this.

As for Rick, he felt like he'd hit the jackpot. Laura Winslow was a hot commodity and the thought that he had a free shot at her rendered him the champ in his mind. Boldly, he reached out gently grab her hand in his. "Because he said you still have a thing for me, baby," he crooned and caressed her knuckles flirtatiously... and she died a little inside of embarrassment. She was speechless as she gaped with a blank stare, rendered mute.

...Oh, _HELL_ no. " _Rick_. Heh-heh..." Stefan interjected with a smug chuckle as he pushed himself from his corner to put an end to the insanity unfolding before him. Reaching the end of his rope, he calmly traversed the room towards the front door, refraining with all his might from declaring all-out war, "It's obvious you got some misinformation because Laura is _my_ woman," he explained courteously, pulling the door open in the most well-mannered way possible without tearing it off the hinges. With an ushering gesture, he kept his only and final warning very simple: "So, basically, you can …leave." Definitely neater than the wild expletives he really wanted to serve. Oh, he was _seconds_ from dishing it.

Laura couldn't help but marvel at him as she watched how calmly he crossed the room... with a grace that would make Fred Astaire weep. What was even more shocking was that he managed to reach the door without slick-jabbing Rick in the face as he passed him — she'd been wincing in anticipation.

But Rick was far from intimidated. He was too stupid to be scared. In his mind, he was doing Laura a favor. He pivoted in Stefan's direction and confronted the 'cock-blocking' barrier head on with an arrogance that was astounding. "Man, you need to take the _hint_ ," he challenged brazenly as he stepped to Stefan with a bold sneer, "And learn how to let go."

Trapped in stunned silence, Laura felt helpless as she watched this preposterous misunderstanding come closer and closer to exploding. She was gonna _murder_ Eddie …and Stefan was gonna murder Rick. As she saw her boyfriend begin to swell up in retaliation, she had a vision of all of their mugshots on the evening news.

In all the time she'd been with him, she'd never seen Stefan come so close to abandoning his cool and unleashing the 'hood savage. When she saw him step in Rick's face, she knew Mortal Kombat was a very real possibility… she had to admit, it was kinda hot. "…Brotha, if I let go, you gon' be the _FIRST_ to know," he retorted sharply in acceptance of the challenge… _uh oh!_

All right, this was going way too far. She realized she was the only one who had the power to the put a stop to the madness. " _Okay!_ Okay, all right!" she interjected frantically once her brain started functioning again and she rushed towards the stand-off to pin her way between them before the first punch could be thrown.

 _Deep breaths, Laura. Deep breaths._ Gently pushing on both of their chests, they both stood down and took a calm step back from each other, even though she could still feel the death glare lasers whizzing past her head. "...Uh. Look," she said sternly as she quickly sorted through her thoughts for most direct path to salvation.

Turning to Rick, she calmly clarified for him, "Uh, Rick, I never said that I wanted to drop Stefan." And then she turned to her boyfriend, insisting earnestly, "Stefan. I _did not say_ I had a thing for Rick." Finally, the attention was turned on the common denominator in the room they all should have been pounding to a pulp right now, sneering angrily at her brother, "And Eddie? …Why did you tell them that?!"

 _Oh man, that was fun._ With the most satisfied grin, all Eddie did was give another innocent shrug as he reclined comfortably in the arms of victory. "It's just a little thing I like to call ... _payback_ ," he informed her slyly before shooting her an animated wink and a finger-gun point. _"…_ Gotcha!" And revenge tasted _so_ delicious. He erupted into a few impish cackles in celebration.

…That's when the realization dawned on her that this was just another lark in the on-going prank war they'd been engaged in for the past few months. With her love life in danger of falling apart, she'd completely forgotten to stay on the look-out for retaliation on the last prank she pulled on her brother… but she couldn't help but nibble her bottom lip as the marrow in her bones began to tingle with ire. "Oh, you got me…" she conceded with a bitter smirk, zeroing in on Eddie with a death glare of her own.

Her last prank hadn't been nearly this serious or complex and so for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he would pull one of this magnitude and one that was _sooo_ poorly-timed. Oh, he was gonna die today. "…And now ...I'm gon' get _you!_ " she declared for bolting in Eddie's direction to give chase, her grabby hands outstretched in preparation to grab and scratch his eyes out. Eddie giggled madly as he quickly hopped out of the chair to escape her wrath, hopping two steps at a time as he was chased upstairs.

As for Stefan and Rick… they were completely unamused. And apparently forgotten about as Laura handled her lightweight, leaving them glowering at each other in acrimonious silence. Left to their own devices as they weathered the tension between them, there was not much else to do about it but… _settle_ _it_ once and for all.

Regarding Rick caustically, Stefan resumed his acceptance of the previous challenge with classic fighting words. "So, uh ...you wanna step outside?" He didn't want to disrespect the Winslows' house, after all.

"Hey, it's just me and you," Rick replied with an unbothered shrug, already crowning himself the champion. Sizing him up, he brushed past Stefan to lead the way towards the open door with every intention of throwing bows in the street…

… _Pffft, yeah right, sucka!_ The moment Rick stepped outside of the threshold, the door was already being slammed in his face as Stefan shrewdly kicked it shut behind him with a scoff. Locking the door for good measure, he simply brushed his shoulders off, popped his collar, and snatched the wrinkles out of the lapels of his suit. "Ain't gon' mess up my clothes for _that_ fool..." He lived to stay fresh another day. Calmly, he took his rightful place back on the couch and patiently waited for Laura's explanation for _this_ one…

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 15..._


	15. Caking the Blame

_**Chapter 15: Caking the Blame**_

 _Summary: Steve comes to the end of his rope when a birthday party he plans for Eddie goes south._

* * *

 _ **A FEW DAYS LATER**_

 _"...Haaaappy Biiiiiiiirthdaaaaaaay, Dear Eddddddooooo!"_ Steve sang enthusiastically aloud with orchestrating gestures, obliviously overzealous in his birthday tribute to Eddie, hoping the silent sea of scowling women surrounding him would catch the spirit to sing along. "Okay! Now _just_ the girls!" he interluded merrily, somehow completely missing the scathing look from the birthday boy himself as Eddie stood frozen in the doorway with his girlfriend, Greta, at his side. They were both gaping in bewilderment at the 'surprise' awaiting them in the living room.

"...Happy-Birthday-to-You!" Steve brightly rambled the last chords of the song in hopes of boosting the mysteriously low morale he sensed in the room. Isolated in his celebratory antics, he leaned over to blow out the candles and applauded gleefully. "Yaaaaaaaaayyyy!" _Clap-clap-clap…clap! …Clap..._ Blinking, Steve look around at the bummer-fest in confusion, wondering what all the long faces were about...

And Laura was loving every second of the cringe-worthy tension twisting the knob on her brother's embarrassment tighter and tighter. Grinning impishly from ear-to-ear, she and Max stood by the door as the welcoming committee, inviting Eddie's entrance to his twenty-first birthday party... hosted by none other than Steven Urkel himself, who had been diligent to mind Eddie's 'black book' when creating the guest list. As a result, behind them stood not one, but _all_ of his ex-girlfriends as the guests of honor. And the ladies did not look pleased with the idea of being in the presence of their ex-boyfriend's past lives and emerging lies. They ceaselessly mean-mugged each other, Eddie, and Steve with folded arms and frosty glares.

If _that_ wasn't the perfect storm of revenge for the grimy stunt he pulled on her, Laura didn't know what was. As she innocently indulged the horror in Eddie's eyes, she was satisfied to know that he now knew what it felt like to have not one, not two... but _several_ of his relationships uprooted at once. She trembled with giddiness as Max, her loyal co-conspirator, rushed to lift her camera and snap stills of Eddie's flaring nostrils as they steamed with anger.

"... _Who planned this?!_ " he growled between gritted teeth, stiffening with discomfort as he felt Greta's icy glare train on him as well.

"That'd be me!" Steve stepped forward gallantly and crossed the room to meet Eddie at the door, throwing an arm around his shoulders to proudly announce himself as the culprit. "It's my little gift ...to my best bud Eddo!"

...Normally, Eddie wouldn't be surprised by that. Steve had never failed him before when it came inadvertently ruining his day. What had him baffled was how the guy could possibly screw up _this_ bad considering he'd never even introduced him to his other friends, let alone his ex- _girlfriends_... but that was only because he hadn't caught that vicious twinkle in Laura's eye yet as she watched the madness unfold with a delightfully sweet smile.

"...Hm-heh-heh-ho-ho...heh-heh..." Calmly attempting to play off his uneasiness, Eddie gave a smug chuckle as he escorted Steve out of earshot of the ladies to gripe with a seething hiss under his breath. "Steve, _are you out of your mind?!_ You invited all of my ex-girlfriends!"

Steve's brows shot up in surprise and he shrugged apologetically, peeking a look over his shoulder at the attendees to have that reality confirmed by all the bitter stares penetrating his soul. ... _Yikes._ "I'm sorry Eddo, I had no idea!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do now, huh?!" Eddie barked, desperate to revive what was left of his dwindling dignity. In his distraction, he failed to notice that Max and Laura had already begun cutting out slices of the cake and cheerfully handing out pieces to the ladies, who took the plates with no intentions of actually celebrating.

"Well..." Steve said, giving the only sound advice he found practical the moment, leaning in to murmur covertly, "If I were you, I would open your presents _veeeery_ carefully..." Eddie just flailed in frustration, hardly given any insight by the warning.

But Steve tried to be an optimist as much as possible, especially now that he'd finally gotten his appetite back and some semblance of stability — he saw no reason why all of his effort should be spoiled by an unsightly mistake and so he made a brave... if not, foolish attempt at mending broken fences. " _Atención! Atención!_ " he announced colorfully to get everyone's attention but rainbows didn't bloom and the sun didn't come out. The clouds of animosity were in a downpour.

But ever vigilant, Steve tried his best to cheerfully weather the storm with a grand fanfare laced with his good-hearted tendencies in being… _too_ honest sometimes. Much to the birthday boy's chagrin, who could only cringe in embarrassment from the heat of all of the scrutinizing glares.

"I _mistakenly_ invited all of Eddie's ex-gal pals. And I know that you all gave your hearts to Eddie ...and all he gave you in return was the heave-ho! Dumpster City! The ol' boot-a-rooni! But I saaay!" Stepping beside Eddie, he once again swung his arm around his shoulder to glorify him as the man of the night, "Let's let by-gones be by-gones, wish the E-Man here a Happy Birthday! ...And have some _cake!_ "

...So the ladies gave them cake. One after the other, they marched in a line of offense towards Eddie and Steve, brashly smashing the plates in their faces, leaving thick masks of white and blue frosting plastering the boys' shocked expressions, before dismissively strutting around them to exit out of the open door. Poor Greta. All she could do was shake her head ruefully and tongue her cheek with an irritable roll of her eyes, uncomfortably enduring the embittered stares of his exes as they brushed past her.

Seemed like the only ones truly enjoying the party was Laura and Max, who celebrated with a high-five on a job well done. Giggling as they marveled at the disaster, Laura licked her fingers clean of leftover frosting and Max lifted her camera to snap more photos, fiendishly capturing the peak moment of humiliation. And there Steve and Eddie stood in a puddle of soiled cake, painted from the shoulders up with the thick cream as they silently absorbed the disgrace of being pummeled in the face over and over again.

Steve just huffed a sigh of defeat, sputtering frosting out of his mouth and gaping so that he could breathe through his layers of shame. Jeez, he felt like he just couldn't do _anything_ right!

Eddie was beside himself with bewilderment, disoriented as he desperately tried to connect the puzzle pieces of this catastrophe together. "Steve... what in the world…" he grumbled, clenching his fists as he slowly stepped over the mess at his feet to examine the huge birthday banner on the wall with his name on it. "… _possessed_ _you_... to invite all of my girlfriends ...to a party?!"

"Well... Laura told me to call all the numbers in your little black book!" Steve bellyached, his shrill voice wavering on a whimper of remorse with a point towards the mastermind in question.

Eddie's head swiveled in Laura's direction as his eyes widened to saucers. If it wasn't for the layer of frosting rendering his expression indistinguishable, she'd probably feel burnt by the glare he shot at her. "…You used my little black book?!"

And Laura didn't have one remorseful bone in her body at the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this satisfied and initially didn't allow herself to care about the cruel effects that her prank had on those who happened to be in the line of fire. "Yeah, it's just a little thing I like to call ...payback. _Gotcha!_ " she gloated with bright grin, echoing her brother's words of vengeance back at him with a wiggle of her brow.

And just to top off his embarrassment with a cherry of her amusement, she mischievously posed next to her brother's sulking, defeated frame in time for Max to snap a few final shots of the pivotal victory. The best part was that she now had blackmail photos along with Eddie's surrender on a platter! _That'll_ teach him to interfere with her peace of mind.

But all of that selfish glory came crashing down on her the moment she heard Greta's voice break the tense silence as she stepped around Eddie to confront her. "Thanks a lot, Laura," she griped in disappointment, not amused by such repulsive displays of immaturity. "I thought you were my friend."

Sedated with a dose of reality by Greta's complaint, Laura's smile was suddenly wiped with a scowl of confusion as her amusement sobered. "…I _am_ your friend."

"Then why would you embarrass me like this?" she asked, disgruntled by the complete lack of consideration.

"Greta...I never meant to hurt _you_ , I was just trying to get back at Eddie," Laura replied compassionately as she attempted to clarify her intentions.

…Steve should have known he'd end up the butt of one of Laura's insensitive jokes. But this time, he didn't feel so forgiving as he pined over what was left of his wasted efforts, angrily stepping into the foreground to confront her as well. It was the most impassioned thing he'd said to her in weeks, even though the words were merely a filter for what he ached in his heart. "Oh, you got back at him, all right! And in the process, you ruined the party I worked my heiny off to give him! Not to mention hurting those young ladies' feelings!"

Laura's short-lived victory took an abrupt nose-dive into irrelevancy as she silently stomached the harsh criticism. Steve didn't stand up to her often but when he did, it was usually a sign that she'd crossed far too broad a line. Blanketed with shame and the sudden awareness of her despicable behavior, her gaze averted to the floor in submission.

"Yeah, Laura!" Eddie sounded off in agreement as he glared at his sister with narrowed eyes.

"And you!" Steve exclaimed as his attention shifted to Eddie, smacking him across the shoulder to rebuke his innocence since he saw Eddie set up his plot against Laura with his own eyes, which set the madness in motion. "You're just as guilty as she is! Shame, shame, _shame_ on both of you! It's one thing when you fight with each other! It's another thing when innocent people get hurt!" he scolded sharply as he gestured wildly between the two of them in disdain.

And then, as if the internal distress he'd been hiding for weeks was on the brink of bursting through the dam, he suddenly found himself choking on those inflamed emotions, his voice faltering with anguish behind the mask of frosting hiding his pained expression. "…You don't know how lucky you are to have each other! I'd give anything to have a brother... or a sister... or parents who called!" He'd experienced a sense of lack all of his life and one thing he never understood was how people so blessed with abundance had the gumption to act so ungrateful. Dragging himself towards the fireplace, he calmly took a cracker from the hors d'oeuvres platter sitting on the mantel. "You ...make ...me ... _sick!"_ he spat before biting into the cracker and crunching obnoxiously.

Laura's shoulders sank as she took a moment to examine the damage she'd caused and the time she'd wasted consuming herself with pettiness. It was bad enough that she'd managed to make the two men who loved her the most turn their noses up in disgust. And now it seemed like everyone around her was beginning to spiral into a fit of insanity. It had to stop somewhere. "Eddie, uh... Steve's right. I'm sorry I ruined your birthday party," she said apologetically as she regarded her brother, the resentment she'd felt for herself for the last two weeks returning full-force.

"Yeah... and I'm sorry I ruined your date with Stefan," Eddie replied just as contrite considering that he now had a lesson in humility of his own. "I'll call both him and Rick and I'll apologize." Greta regarded the siblings with a relaxed smile as she tugged at them both, pushing them into a hug of truce.

Steve spectated the cease-fire introspectively by the fireplace as he munched on another cracker... any other time, he'd be elated to see these two hash out their differences and under the layers of his irritation, he was. But as he struggled to see through the frosting on his glasses, he couldn't help but feel a tingle of resentment every time he looked Laura's way. And he _hated_ that feeling! He never wanted to feel that way when he saw her. So, he decided not to look. Opting to occupy himself with cleaning himself up, he walked over to the table to grab some napkins to silently wipe off his glasses.

"So, who's gonna apologize to Mom and Dad when they see this mess?" Eddie asked her once releasing his little sister from his embrace, his brows perked dubiously — for once, Steve wasn't the one destroying things around the house lately. How they had gotten away with this prank war without their parents killing them so far was beyond him.

"It's _your_ turn," Laura insisted with a dismissive shrug. "I apologized for the egg fight in the kitchen the other night."

"No you didn't, you big fibber — you made _me_ do it!" Steve blurted defensively, once again incensed by the _constant_ betrayal. Floored by his sudden disclaimer, the room fell eerily silent as Laura peered over her shoulder at him to see the rueful shake of his head and the displeasure in his eyes... and her heart felt like it would melt into her rib-cage. _Oh yeah... he did take the fall for me, didn't he_?

In that moment, she recognized just how automatic her reactions to him had become... or rather, the lack thereof. She was so used to ignoring him that even the feelings she was developing for him hadn't been enough to make her aware of her dismissive conditioning. Resisting the urge to cringe with the pang of guilt that almost crippled her, she tried her best to keep her smile from faltering as she calmly regarded the group. "Listen, I'll make it up to all of you. Let's have a real party tomorrow. Max and I will straighten up this mess before Mom and Dad get back."

" _Pfft!_ Yeah, right!" Max scoffed loudly to veto the unwanted volunteer opportunity. "Leave me out of this, I'm just here to document the aftermath," she declared before cavalierly marching for the front door. "The Enquirer awaits!" Grabbing her camera, she waved it as evidence of her duty before backing out of the door and shutting it behind her. ...Yeah, Laura knew her bestie well enough to know that it'd been a long shot.

Shrugging, all she could do was hope that she hadn't made even more people hate her just because her confusion had somehow trickled into every part of her waking life. "I'm really sorry about this, Greta. I don't want you think this was about you in any way," she said as she turned to her, feeling she owed Eddie's girlfriend to biggest apology... behind Steve, that is. But she preferred to face him alone and so she strategically held her horses.

"It's okay, Laura," Greta replied graciously, thankful that the misunderstanding had dissipated, an arm looping around Eddie's waist as she smiled up at him playfully. "This one needs to be knocked down a peg or two sometimes anyway."

"Heeeey, now..." Eddie smirked impishly as his arm hung around her shoulders, following her lead as she began to tug him towards the stairs.

"C'mon Eddie, let's get you cleaned up," she purred up to him suggestively as a finger lifted to scoop a taste of frosting off of his face. They ascended the staircase arm-in-arm, taking the light-hearted ambiance of the settled storm with them. "Yes, ma'am... but only if _you_ hold the sponge," Eddie's voice trailed with a chuckle from the top step as they disappeared upstairs, leaving only Steve and Laura to endure the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Surrounded by Steve's wasted deeds that she was now tasked to clean up by herself, Laura suddenly felt smothered by the weight of countless pressures she'd been trying to ignore with frivolous excuses. Torn between the fear of facing him and the desire to reconcile with him, she seized the opportunity in the silent tension to apologize, slowly turning to give him her attention... only to be caught off guard by the sight of him diligently tugging at a napkin stuck up his nostril, straining and grunting until it finally popped out… _ew._

Blinking out of her daze, she began to close the uneasy gap between them and she inched towards him, anxiously rubbing her palms together in front of her as her guilt buoyed in the pit of her stomach. "…Steve?" she croaked, barely getting a sidelong glance in response before he went back to wiping the frosting off of his face with another napkin.

Helplessly surrendering to the silence that lingered, she just sighed in defeat as she reached out to gently tug on his elbow to turn him towards her. "Hey... you're not gonna give me the cold shoulder again, are you?" she asked, exhausted of all other options but to chop down the bush she'd been skipping around and just put herself out there. It's not like she could possibly embarrass herself any more than she already had.

As irked as Steve was, it never took much effort on her part to thaw him out since he didn't get icy very often... all it took, really, was her touch against his arm and the sound of her voice as it lilted with remorse like an angelic carol from the gods — he instantly felt weak in the knees. Sometimes he wished he had the ability to ignore her long enough to break away from her spell. So far, no dice.

"Well, not _intentionally._ It's still pretty stiff from hanging streamers all mornin'. But I wouldn't count on it warming up too quickly if I were you," he replied crassly as he rolled his sore shoulder, his outrage slowly pulsing back to life as he was reminded of the bitter fact that the war he'd fought with gravity while decorating earlier was all in vain. It seemed to him that even when a disaster wasn't his fault, he still took the brunt of the punishment.

Stung by his sarcasm, all Laura could do was sulk in regret. "…Okay. I deserve that," she conceded with a shrug, trapped in the same hole she'd been in with Stefan where her only option was to atone until the wheels fell off. "Look. I know I ruined all your hard work. But I didn't mean to put you in the middle of all of this, I was just —"

"You didn't, eh?" he interjected scornfully as he shot her a dubious glare. Steeling his resolve, he poised himself and tossed the napkin aside irritably to sneer with more piercing sarcasm, "Well, you could've _fooled_ me, Laura! Thanks for the heads up! If I'd known I'd be eating Eddie's cake off my own face today, I would have exfoliated this morning! Could've saved the trees and a few bucks on paper plates, too!"

What she found interesting as she took the lashing is that she didn't know whether to mourn the loss of her dominance in this unfamiliar dynamic between them or revel in it. She vividly remembered a time when no matter how guilty she was, he'd always end up begging for _her_ forgiveness. ...But there was just something about his stance in demanding respect that she couldn't help but submit to. And not just because she it owed to him several times over anyway. " _I know,_ Steve, but after what Eddie did —"

"I know-I know. You did what you had to do," Steve replied patiently as he found himself tripping on his own determination. What amazed him more than anything was that she was making an effort to apologize at all. The Laura Winslow he knew would have thrust a broom in his hand and told him to clean up himself by now. ...And it sucked, because now he loved her even more and his frustration burgeoned as a result. _Doggone it._

Taking a deep breath, he caught himself before he allowed all of his built up grievances to fully erupt, snatching up another napkin to distract himself with wiping his face, stumbling into the realm of self-pity as a disheartening notion occurred to him: "Besides, this is all _my_ fault. I should have seen this coming from the state line."

"…Well, what does _that_ mean?" she asked, slightly affronted by the subliminal jab she sensed from his words, her arms crossing sternly.

"Why, you were _absolutely_ right, Laura! Nothing's changed!" he grumbled despondently as the harsh reality of his fruitless efforts were magnified by the reinforcement of her treatment of him. "You could've helped me plan a decent celebration for _your_ brother, but you didn't! You tricked me into arranging this heinous, adolescent melodrama instead! It just _proves_ that not only do you still treat me like the wax in your ears, but you still use me with no regard to how I might feel about it. _I'm_ the imbecile for throwing myself on the highway of misery just get my heart run over a million times! Roadkill should be my middle name!"

…Laura could've gaped in astonishment as she stared at him with a scowl of perplexity, absorbing the blows as he reamed her out, driving what was left of her integrity into the dirt. Oh, she deserved it and she knew that; she heeded every word. But this was just... _sooo_ unlike him. It was typical of him to blame himself in some way but he rarely confronted her with his real feelings about her behavior towards him.

Seeing him finally begin to stand up for himself — especially to her — was shocking enough to distract from the heat of his rage altogether and gave her different lens to see him through. She didn't know what was worse: the fact that he had every right to go postal on her, or the fact that the more he did… the more attractive he became to her. The shame and admiration that kindled as a result had to be the most confusing cluster of emotions she'd ever choked on.

"...That's not true, Steve!" … _Ugh. Like hell it wasn't._ She just sighed and dropped her face in one of her hands, feeling like a nitwit … and to think that she'd actually been accepted into Harvard before. She was fresh out of sound logic to explain away her guilt and she couldn't think of a decent response to save her life; what else could she do but deflect?

"Oh, you're darn right it is!" Steve lamented at her denial, flailing in defeat as he marched towards the fireplace again, bemoaning his role in the world's unluckiest romance with self-reproach, "Let's face it, I'll be grey, wrinkled, and sucking cheddar broth through a straw before you finally see me standing here as a flesh and blood human being and not some tool you can use when the screws come loose!" Fuming, he snatched up the platter of crackers from the mantel since it was the only residual of his hard work worth saving… plus, he could use a snack. Clutching it with determination, he pivoted towards the stairway and began to stomp up the stairs so that he could dig frosting out of his facial orifices in private.

"Steve...!" Laura called out before he could just abandon her with her unresolved shame, her gaze beseeching his reprieve as she watched him storm off — which was _another_ first in the unfamiliar array of reactions she didn't see coming.

"What?!" he barked impatiently in response to her plea, spinning to face her from where he paused his ascent on the mezzo platform and stiffening with irritation… Recognizing how worked up he was becoming, he huffed in frustration and once again adverted his gaze from her in order to tame his vexation towards her.

She couldn't help but wince a little at his callousness. It'd never been clearer that he'd had enough. She thought she felt like the scum on scum when Stefan was disappointed her… coming from Steve, it felt about ten times worse. What made that notion particularly jarring was that considering how many times she'd disregarded him in the past, she never remembered feeling this sick with guilt at his expense. It took all of her might not to beg him like a lost kitten.

"You're right," she conceded softly, helplessly apologetic as she tried her best to acknowledge his claims as candidly as possibly. "You're not the imbecile, _I_ am. I was wrong for using you and ...I'm sorry. I promise I'll never ask you to do something like this again."

There she went again... throwing him more curveballs... Steve's frosted brows furrowed skeptically, even though his heart couldn't help but sink in submission of her sincerity. As rarely as she acknowledged him, she just as rarely admitted when she was wrong. Unfortunately, her promises were becoming more and more empty to him and that was the most disheartening part of all. Sighing heavily, all he could do was give an incredulous shake of his head, dampened with pessimism. "I wish with all of my heart that I could believe that, ladybug. You have _no_ idea."

… _Ouch_. Hearing him say that stung more than it should have. Gut-checked into silence, Laura desperately tried to swallow the lump of contempt in her throat that left her breathless. The last half-hour of shenanigans suddenly didn't seem so funny.

The only thing that had been loyal to Steve all day was this cracker platter. He hugged it possessively as he calmly zipped up his suit of composure, steeling his posture. "...Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be upstairs draining sprinkles out my sinuses with my handy-dandy neti pot." Giving a firm nod, he courageously abandoned an overwhelming impulse to drop the dish and rush to her side the moment he saw her eyes gloss over and it took every fiber of his being not to betray his own resolve, turning to excuse himself. "Aw, great… now I'm all nasally." ...As if becoming moreso were even possible. His snorts echoed loudly in the room as he climbed the rest of the way of upstairs, trying to expel said irritants from his nose.

Well… at least he hadn't brought up that night again. The fuzzy memory suddenly sharpened in her mind's eye and quickly became the only thing she could think about as she silently watched him disappear upstairs. ...It was only fitting that now _she_ was the one who had to clean up the mess littering the living room before her parents came back. Surveying this fact as she looked over the damage left in the wake of her impulsiveness, she felt emotionally clobbered.

Safe from Steve's scrutiny and now left with little strength to pick up the pieces of her shattered integrity, every muscle in her body deflated with the heaviness of her shame wearing her down, sluggishly lowering to sit on the bottom step of the stairway where she pitifully buried her face in her hands.

" _Oh, God_ … what am I doing?" she groaned softly barely above a whisper, desperately fighting a losing battle with her emotions as she swelled with dejection, choking back bitter tears. "…What … _the heck_ …am I doing?"

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 16..._


	16. Head Games

_**Chapter 16: Head Games**_

 _Summary: In an attempt to fend off his depression, Steve buries himself in his midterm project and makes an astonishing discovery. Meanwhile, rumors about Laura's wild night begin to circulate around campus unexpectedly._

* * *

After giving Laura a well-deserved piece of his mind, Steve found himself imprisoned with confusion as he spent the rest of that day hiding in his room, wallowing in the misery of his plight. It was beginning to dawn on him that his devotion for her had never had weighed him down this much before. And in his exhaustion, he suddenly wished for the days when her cruelty slid right off of his shoulders like water on ceramic. Because those days were clearly over. How he could have possibly ended up falling for her even harder after everything she'd done recently was beyond him.

He could think of maybe two or three occasions where he'd been forced to demand her respect but this was the first time he didn't allow his weakness for her to rule his reactions ...and that scared the crap out of him! He should've felt empowered for finally putting his foot down and he still refused to act on the crippling impulse to seek her out and nullify himself. But for some reason, no matter how many times he replayed their conversation in his head and found fairness in his words, he couldn't spurn the guilt of yelling at her.

As much as they both claimed things hadn't changed, he'd known her so long that it wasn't hard to detect that something had intuitively switched in her. Just as Laura could discern that his self-esteem had elevated, he definitely took note of her slow but steady awareness of him. Unfortunately, her actions said otherwise.

The puzzle left him in a state of emotional limbo as he was once again confronted with the fact that he was right back where he started. She was there, drowning in denial. And he was here, blinded by delusion. And ne'er shall the pitiful twain meet. He caught himself tentatively peeking over at the only vial of leftover Achy-Breaky Brew he secretly kept in the holder on his desk for the remainder of the night.

As close as he'd come to talking himself into using it before, he'd never felt as tempted than right now... and that's the part that scared him. Especially now that the woman he loved was more unrecognizable than ever. _And even more beautiful... and even more extraordinary... and just … one in a million.._. It was just not fair! What he needed was a diversion and fast!

And so for the next few days, Steve desperately scrambled to lift the heaviness in his heart that had settled like a bad case of acid reflux. Part of his strategy involved packing on his emotional armor so tightly that the last few months of his life may has well have been displaced time. If Laura insisted on acting as if nothing had ever happened... well, two can play that game. To her surprise, instead of avoiding her again like she expected, he was perhaps perkier and more good-humored than usual. Unbeknownst to him, his aloofness made it easier for her to perpetuate a masquerade of her own.

The other part of maintaining that charade involved letting his work eat him alive in order to get his mind off of the dull ache he carried in his gut. Most of his nights were spent being utterly consumed with his midterm project, which had taken several unexpected turns and hit many walls over the course of his experiments while taming his heartbreak.

But that was the magnificence of science that he appreciated — the unlimited, spontaneous wonders always had the ability to keep his spirits high. It kept him constantly engaged, stumbling upon discovery after discovery in a streak of fortune he could only seem to find through a microscope. And so he dove head-first into countless hours, days, and nights of distracting himself with hammering, adjusting, testing, and re-testing in isolation...

* * *

 _ **A WEEK OR SO LATER…**_

Laura had been at The Mezzanine most of the morning — a small student cafe near the University that had become the popular hangout spot on campus to chill or study. Sticking to her guns in terms of staying a slave to her studies, she comfortably reclined in one of the leather armchairs by the window overlooking the quad, consumed by the opened a calculus textbook nestled in her lap. Like Steve, she'd been trying to the gather the seams of her composure after being confronted with her shame, desperately seeking relief from the sickness of guilt that seemed to pulse through her like relentless hot flashes.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that the harsh truth of Steve's words had little effect on her, she couldn't help but acknowledge the disgust she'd gradually accumulated towards herself, becoming quite fed up with her own denial. Because every time she thought about what he'd said to her that day, she also found that she couldn't dismiss recollection of the many tears shed in secret that night — she pretty much cried herself to sleep, the tides of victorious vengeance on Eddie rescinding into utter insignificance.

She did end up being the one to organize her brother's real birthday party and even though Steve hid his distaste surprisingly well, she could tell he carried around the bitterness of the embarrassment she'd caused him only to be forced to enjoy the fruits of _her_ labors instead of his own. And, once again, he was made to seem like the incompetent one… even when none of this was his fault. As her ego was steadily chiseled away by the consequences of her selfishness, she was shocked to notice how increasingly bashful she was becoming in his presence…

To continue to deny the unsettling effect he continued to have on her, she found little reprieve in much else but her desire to ace her mid-terms. Had it not been for the fact that she was the one who promised to cook for the family tonight, she probably would have hid in there all day.

…What was worse was that things _still_ hadn't gotten back to normal with Stefan. It'd ended up taking her longer than she would have liked to convince him that she wasn't seeing Rick behind his back but she could tell his suspicions hadn't completely dissolved. Her mother warned her about this. She almost had to do circus tricks just to keep him at ease these days and the contemptible game she'd chosen to play was becoming exhausting to the point of surrender. If only she could afford to throw in the towel.

"Laura!" A familiar voice rang out from the opposite end of cafe, causing her to flinch out of her daze of convoluted thoughts filtered through the equations on the page in front of her. Looking up from the book, her eyes sought the source of the voice, finally spotting a tall, dark-skinned young woman with micro-braids, shouldering through the crowd to approach her as if she were on a mission, a sort of anxious pep in her step. She recognized her as Tracy, one of her lecture hall classmates that she often traded notes with. "Hey, Laura…" she greeted gingerly as she lowered meekly into the armchair next to her, peering at her inquisitively.

"Hey, Tracy," Laura greeted her pleasantly and courteously shut the book to give the girl her full attention. But she couldn't detect right away why she suddenly felt uneasy as she was quietly scrutinized, picking up on a hint of excitement buzzing from her. A brow quirked in curiosity, suspecting that maybe she was just nervous about an upcoming test and wanted to copy notes again... but why smile so hard over notes? "...How's it going?" she asked her politely after a beat of awkward silence, a brow raised suspiciously.

"Yeah-yeah," Tracy replied in rapid dismissal before leaning in eagerly as if to contain a secret, her face alight with ambition as her smirk broadened impishly. Apparently, scandalous gossip was the only reason she rushed over. "Is it true?"

...Okay, well that didn't give Laura much to work with. Scowling with confusion as she pondered the dead-end question, she probed for clarity, "Is _what_ true?"

"That you and Stefan broke up?"

No sooner than the clarity she was looking for unexpectedly blew up in her face, every female occupant in the café suddenly picked up on the scent of their hushed conversation. Like a pack of panting gazelles, the women dropped everything and abandoned their business to gather around the two ladies with open ears and hopeful stares as they anticipated confirmation.

 _...Sigh._ Laura just deflated in irritation and served an exasperated roll of her eyes. And Stefan wondered why she was so unnerved with him being in other countries; who knew what wild animals were just waiting to hunt him down in _this_ city, let alone overseas? ...The unsettling part was that she couldn't figure out if she even had a right to be jealous or not. The good news was that the knot of shame in her gut was finally forming into something else... _like rage._

Put under a magnifying glass by the sea of thirsty eyes just twinkling for answers, Laura squirmed uncomfortably as she shot a glare of warning at her classmate. "… _NO_ ," she asserted sharply through gritted teeth, "It's not true _at all_ , TRACY." She made sure to say her name with emphasis in order to subliminally inform Stefan's extensive _waiting list_ that her conversation didn't include them.

" _Awwwww..._ " Like clockwork, a chorus of discouraged moans chimed in response. Getting the answer they _weren't_ looking for, the crowd of females dispersed as if they'd been sprayed with insect repellent.

Laura glowered begrudgingly as she watched the atmosphere settle, allowing privacy back in. By the time she turned back to Tracy, she instantly spotted the look of envy that marred her expression and she regarded her with a blank stare.

"Dang, _really?"_ Tracy mused in disappointment... and then caught herself when she saw Laura's glare tighten. _"._..I-I mean — really?! That's _good!"_ she perked disingenuously, feigning a gracious grin before giving an innocent shrug. "It's just... I heard that's what you told some guy at the Delta Party right before you kissed him. I heard you were the Piñata, too. They call you the 'Queen of Quarters' now," she elaborated curtly, oblivious of Laura's shock as her jaw hung open in response.

 _...Wait, huh?_ Even though her initial reaction was to bark in defense of such... _outlandish_ claims, she was washed away by a turbulent wave of perplexity as she recalled the fuzzy events that night of the party. 'Queen of Quarters' she could kinda get... she _did_ end up losing every time she played the drinking game. And losing a drinking game was the whole point. But she couldn't exactly connect the dots of the other claim to her alleged frat-girl fame: " _'Piñata?'_ What are you talking about?"

"You know! What the Deltas call the drunk girls they pass around," Tracy replied nonchalantly with a sage nod, far from sympathetic to the fact that this... _might_ be a rumor. Secretly, she was hoping she would jog Laura's memory or something if it meant knocking her out of the way of every girl's dream to get their greedy paws on Stefan.

 _GASP!_ Laura recoiled with an offended gasp, completely derailed by the ghastly suggestion that she'd not only kissed some random guy but became the _party favor_ of the night. Well... the guy she kissed wasn't 'random' at all, but that wasn't the point!

None of that other nonsense even came close to being true and the kiss didn't even happen at the party! For a split second, she was disillusioned by the possibility that Max had opened her big mouth! To her knowledge, nobody else was aware of what really happened that night. ...There was also a possibility that this was Steve's way of getting _his_ revenge but she rejected that crushing notion before it could ever cultivate — the last thing she wanted to do was believe he'd given up on her _that_ harshly. At least with the truth being barely present in the claims floating about, it had potential to _stay_ a rumor and nothing more.

Gnawing on her tongue as her outrage began to burgeon, she gave a hostile snarl to Tracy under her breath, "… _Girl_ , you better ease up out my face before I turn _you_ into a piñata." And when Tracy just gave her mouth a dubious twist, Laura angrily wielded her pencil as the stick that would bust this gossiping skeeze bag wide open for the treats to rain down. Rearing back, she silently threatened to do just that.

 _Blink!_ Startled by Laura's sudden hissy fit, she flinched at the fake-out before just scoffing with a roll of her eyes, standing to strut away in dismissal. As Laura watched her leave, she was suddenly very aware that this thirsty tramp — who had the nerve to ask about her man in the first place ... was a lot prettier than she noticed before... as were many of the girls still peeking scandalous stares at her like a league of boyfriend bandits.

Huffing in frustration, she quickly leaned over to stuff her books in her shoulder tote to make a break for it as extreme embarrassment overwhelmed her. Gathering her bag, she rushed a beeline to the exit of the cafe while she still had a chance to salvage the very low levels of dignity afforded to her. As if time stood still, she suddenly felt the urge to shrink under the scrutiny of so many suspicious eyes as she felt their gazes follow her out of the door.

She barely made it past the threshold before running directly into Max, who had been on her way in. Stopping short of colliding with her, Laura pulled herself out of the door completely to cater to her paranoia, peeking through the window to check if she was still being spied on.

"Oh, hey, Laura," Max said brightly as she was stopped in her tracks, pausing her endeavor to go inside to banter with her. But her smile was wiped with concern as she noticed the distressed look on her bestie's face. "What's wrong?"

"What is going _on?!"_ Laura spat suddenly as she spun away from the window towards Max, buzzing with agitation. She firmly grabbed her bestie by the shoulder to pull her away from the cafe to confer with her in private on the quad. Finding an empty, shady spot by a tree, she turned to her friend and seethed suspiciously, "You didn't say anything to anybody did you?!"

Max was initially surprised by the vague accusation, but just as everyone else who frequented the campus, she had definitely caught wind of the scattered whispers here and there regarding Laura and Deltas over the last couple of days. She'd been hoping Laura would somehow be passed over by that breeze. When it dawned on her what she was upset about, she cringed with sympathy at first, only to retort in her own defense, "No! I told you I wouldn't, Laura. I don't know how it got out!"

Which was the truth — as hard as it had been to contain such a juicy secret, she'd kept her word when it came keeping the beast of truth caged this time around. But she also brought up an excellent point: "There were a lot of people at the party, y'know. You can't necessarily expect somebody _not_ to start a rumor. Especially at the Delta House." Hey, Max tried to stop her but she insisted on dancing on the table and setting the roof on fire. What did she _really_ expect?

...While that explained why the rumor was so disjointed, it still didn't solve the riddle of Laura's spiraling nightmare that seemed to weigh heavier on her heart with each passing day. How... just _how_ did she get here?

As the mother of all headaches began to pulse through her skull, Laura's fingertips lifted to massage circles into her temples as she groused in misery, " _God_ , every time I think Stefan and I are okay, something else happens. You know it took me _forever_ to convince him I wasn't seeing Rick behind his back! And now this stupid rumor... _ugh._ What am I gonna do if he finds out about _this?_ " Now her lie was even more poignant since her boyfriend was misled to believe who the real party girl had been.

"Plead insanity," Max replied, sharper than a razor as she tried to lighten the mood, but only managing to evoke an unamused glare in return.

"Did that already. And it _barely_ worked." Laura gritted and huffed a sigh as her fingers combed through hair in frustration, her eyes wandering in deep thought as the gears turns in her mind... unfortunately, she was far too mentally spent to uphold many more of her fragile deceptions.

Max just consoled her with a compassionate rub of her arm as she watched her bestie go through the motions of her own denial, only to come no closer to a solution. Sighing, all she could do was shrug and continue to be as supportive as she could. But she couldn't help but feed her burning curiosity, "...How's that whole Steve thing going, anyway? Need therapy yet?"

Damn. She just _had_ to bring up Steve. As if she didn't feel woozy enough. Laura managed to go the last half-hour without thinking about him and now the mention of his name had her contending with a headache along with the butterflies that instantly began to mingle with the guilt in perpetually souring her gut. "Girl, I'm beyond help," she whined as she deflated in defeat, leaning sluggishly against the bark of the nearby tree. "I've tried to stop thinking about him but I can't. I feel so bad about how I've been treating him... but what can I really do about it?"

 _...Um, Earth to Laura!_ Max almost wanted to shake the ever-loving crap out of her to wake her up but realizing how vulnerable she was, she honed in on her sympathy and decided to offer up the last piece of advice that seemed reasonable. "Laura. I don't claim to be the shiniest apple in the bunch, but don't you think you should just talk to both of them? This doesn't seem like the type of thing that'll go away on its own."

If only she knew how tempted she'd been in the past week to just tell them both the truth. But everytime the possibility arised, her relentless pessimism only showed her a lose-lose-lose outcome that involved making huge changes that she didn't feel ready for. But of course, there were more surface-level reasons to blame her reluctance. "How can I, Max? Steve has a girlfriend too… one that I'm pretty sure is on some secret mission from the Devil — I'd rather spare myself the wasted time with Myra's 'apocalyptic' rage," she said with an indignant roll of her eyes, giving a shrug of surrender. "Anymore suggestions?"

"Nope. I'm fresh out," Max replied with a sardonic smirk as she again tried to lift her friend's spirits with a litany of humorous quips. "Try again in about ten years when you're finally released from solitary confinement. But you do realize I'm going to want a front-row ticket when you go on the Jerry Springer Show, right? I'll be the impartial third-party witness that saw everything from the sidelines. Got the pictures to prove it."

...Laura couldn't help but crack a smile as Max teased her, appreciating her bestie's ability to cheer her up. Slightly tickled by the parody her life had become, she shook her head ruefully and could only muse about irony of it all, softly pondering, "Do you realize how convinced I was that this would _never_ happen? What is everybody gonna think if all this gets out...?"

"This is about _you_ , Laura," Max said firmly once she sobered out of her amusement to extend genuine support to her bestie. As much as she teased her, she never liked seeing her friend this miserable and if there was no solution to this conundrum, then maybe Laura should start asking the right questions. She offered up one for her consider. "Forget everyone's opinion for a minute, including mine, and ask yourself: what's going to make _you_ happy?"

...Funny how she hadn't really asked herself that question this entire time. The lesson in reality caused her to seriously consider a road to that end as she became reflectively pensive for several seconds... only to chuckle as she was tickled by a creepy notion that innocently crept into her mind. "…Think there's a way Steve could, like …make him and Stefan one person?" Of course, she knew the most ideal road was almost never the best road. But it was nice to wish that it were that easy!

"I wouldn't count on it if I were you — nobody's _that_ crafty," Max quipped with a scoff as she looped her arm through Laura's to drag her away from the tree trunk. "Feel like shopping?" she offered brightly.

"Nope," Laura replied dryly, only to shrug indifferently. "Lead the way!" she said in surrender. It looked like studying was out of the window, might as well run up her Dad's credit card to make herself feel better.

...And wouldn't ya know it, Myra just happened to be lurking behind that exact tree undetected in eavesdrop mode... possibly because she'd been following Laura around all day in an obsessive mission to exact her revenge. Because that's just how Myra Monkhouse got down. Seriously, her arsenal of stealth tactics could put the CIA to shame.

"This girl is! 'Cause I just _crafted_ your demise, Miss Thing!" she chirped brightly as she peeked around the trunk of the tree, buzzing with giddiness as she saw the magic of her villanous plan beginning to unfold. With a dig up of information here, a whisper of a white lie there, and embellishment on top, and _viola!_ The campus was alerted to the 'promiscuous party girl' that Laura Winslow had allegedly become and it was a lie only bound to spread like a wildfire.

Staring with narrowed eyes at the back of her nemesis as she walked away, she plotted to dig the knife even deeper. "How's the taste of your own medicine? Bitter enough for ya?!" she sneered with an evil cackle. Smirking impishly, she popped out from behind the tree when the coast was clear, faithfully clutching what appeared to be a stack of flyers... and let's just say that the marketing didn't represent Laura in the best light.

"Take a flyer, thank you!" Myra solicited cheerfully as she passed students promenading the quad, appealing to their varied interests like a bonafide propagandist. "Thank you, thank you - here you go! Stay well informed about lurking two-timing adulterers on this campus! Petition for justice in a court of love!"

Spotting a wandering student that seemed more susceptible to a personal pitch by the love-sick slouch in his step, she called out to him to get his attention. "Ohhh, yoo-hoo!" Running up to him, she more or less shoved one of the sheets into his hand as her arm rounded his shoulders to escort him along. "So, tell me! What do you know about ... _piñatas?"_

* * *

 _ **MEANWHILE...**_

 _Eureka!_ Cracking the code to a complex riddle that not even the most well-renowned neuroscientists in the world could overturn, Steve was thrilled with the prospect of being on the brink of an 'A'... thanks to the yogurt he had for breakfast, which helped him complete his equation. Buzzing with motivation, he lept at the opportunity to get direct feedback before he was due to turn in his findings. Better yet, as he'd hoped all week, his excitement over his discovery was strong enough to nudge his disheartened sense of hopelessness to the back-burner for the time being. In fact, he was secretly relieved that Laura wasn't on his mind for once...

After class that day, he beckoned Professor Gates — a perpetually stoned-faced fellow with a pretentious nature and a lazy eye — to the laboratory for a demonstration of his new invention, who looked on with polite skepticism as the young scientist geared up for the first official trial run. Even though Steve insisted that it was safe to proceed, the Professor knew, just like everybody in the University, that Steve's reputation as a klutz was just a poignant as his reputation as a brilliant student. Even though the professor remained optimistic, he was a scientist himself; knew the outcome of the experiment could go either way.

What impressed him more than anything as his crossed eyes scrutinized the clunky, makeshift contraption — a large, metallic throne fitted with a control panel — was the fact Steve managed to build a machine this complicated without injuring himself. Cautiously retreating to a corner of the lab to stay clear of possible malfunctions, he braced himself because that possibility was still up for grabs.

Bravely dusting off his lab coat, Steve prepared to take the plunge into the unknown. He stepped to the machine and lowered into the seat, wiggling snuggly against the brace and aligning his head beneath the funnel-shaped helmet hovering above the chair. "Buckle up for safety!" he chirped with excitement and he proceeded to do so for good measure. _Here goes nothing._ "Let her rip!" Steve exclaimed confidently before fearlessly hitting the switch.

In that instant, the colorful bulbs infused in the sleek metal of the panel twinkled to life as the machine drained excess power from the generators, dimming the lights of the laboratory. Steve convulsed in the seat of the contraption as potent currents of electricity pulsed through the helmet to his brain, the needles of the gauges on the control panel twitching past the limits.

"Steve? Are you okay?" the professor asked with concern from the sidelines as he noted his stupified expression.

"...C-c-ouldn't b-b-be b-better, profes-s-sooor..." Steve managed to stutter in reply as he was jolted by the vigorous shudders of the grumbling throne. ...And maybe he spoke too soon. Because seconds later, sparks flew violently from the artery of wires sending juice to the gadget, doubling the voltage and causing him to jerk violently in the chair with high-pitched yelps of distress. As the power fluctuated, steam began to spew from the every crack in the metallic plates barely holding the apparatus together.

Eventually, the lights of the lab flickered back on as the hums and moans of the machine fizzled to a halt, chiming with a resounding _ding_ to indicate completion of the power cycle. Disoriented as he swayed in the chair, Steve stared wide-eyed into space and tried to absorb the shock of the unexpected energy surge.

Swatting away the fog that filled the room, Gates approached the machine apprehensively as he watched Steve struggle to peel himself out of the chair. "Steve... what happened to your machine?"

"...Eh... I think it worked just fine — _tch-tch-tch-ch-ch!_ " he replied languidly as he stood... well, he tried to before residual electrical pulses locked his muscles and stiffened him like a wooden board, causing him to twitch and tick involuntarily as he slowly limped away from the chair. "...I just seem to be experiencing... a few side effects —" _Tick-tick-tick! ..._ He sputtered and awkwardly tried to shake off the random seizures that carried him to a nearby table like a puppet on a string.

Being pulverized by electricity was a sensation he could never get used to but after being the only human trial in his own experiments a lot of times, it didn't take long for him to recover as he grabbed his clipboard to pen a few notes.

...And as expected, there didn't seem to be a conclusive result for the run. "Well, don't worry, Steve. Science is a process of trial and error," Gates said patiently as he became pensive, scowling with concern once Steve had his back turned. He knew the odds of cracking the formula was a long shot but he was just glad Steve used himself as the guinea pig or he would have an interesting report to write to his superiors... well, after draining power the way the machine did, he might still have to justify the unexpected spike in lab costs.

 _How am I going to explain this to the board?_

"Meh. Just tell them we have a few kinks to work out," Steve replied indifferently over his shoulder as he scribbled on the pad, hardly discouraged by the lack of results. The first trial was rarely successful but he knew it was usually a matter of debugging technical errors, if nothing else.

"Tell who?" the professor asked incredulously with one eye wandering in confusion, knowing for a fact he hadn't referred to _'them'_ outloud.

...And Steve knew for a fact that he heard it. "The board," he confirmed matter-of-factly, pausing his scribbles to peer at the professor quizzically.

 _Blink_. Displaced by the discrepancy in their exchange, Gates canted his head curiously as he approached Steve with knitted brows. "...But how did you know I was thinking about the board?"

"Well, I just heard you as clear as a bell!" _Duh_. Steve just shrugged dismissively at first, completely missing the eerie distinction between the clarity of spoken words and the lucidity of ... _thoughts_. _Wait, what?_ Suddenly _c_ aptivated by the absurd notion that the professor's words hadn't, in fact, been _spoken_ , Steve slowly turned to regard him with a blank stare...

"Steve, I didn't _say_ anything, I was only _thinking_ about the board..." Gates clarified earnestly as the same notion crept into his suspicions. They exchanged a skeptical look that lasted about half a second ...and both their faces blanched in an instant!

 _GAAAAASSSSP!_ Steve recoiled in disbelief as he was shook to his core by the implications, collapsing against the table behind him, his face dropping as he was obliterated with shock. "...I don't _believe_ this!" he exclaimed, perking with determination as his mind instantly began to consider the best way to test their...'theory'. Grabbing the stunned-to-silence professor by the shoulder, he leaned in to eagerly propose the following: "Okay, professor! Let's try something... I want you think about what you had for breakfast — don't tell me! Just... _think_ about it!"

... _Naaaaah_. Gates couldn't help but be riddled with doubt, just knowing his years of scientific insight would prevail over this freakish phenomenon ...but what could it hurt? He ultimately surrendered to his overwhelming curiosity and went with the flow. "Okay... here goes..." His crossed-eyed gaze lifted to the ceiling as he silently recalled his morning routine.

 _I had skim milk, an egg white omelet, and pork sausage._

Steve stood frozen in silence as he listened intently to his... _thoughts?_ Well, his lips weren't moving so somehow, it made sense. His eyes rolled speculatively arounds the red frames of glasses as he repeated what he _know_ he heard. "You haaad _..._ skim milk, an egg white omelet, and pork sausage."

...Yup, he heard it. Even though his vacant expression seemed etched onto his face, Gates was impressed enough to be pinched with disbelief as the impossible was confirmed and he gaped in shock. "That's _amazing!_ You read my mind!"

 _GAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSP!_ Twice as rattled, Steve jumped back with a lung-bursting, lip-twisting gasp as he struggled to lift his jaw off the floor. Needless to say, induced telepathy was the _last_ result he expected when he started the experiment. "Snooow _White!_ " he cried, nearly winded by the astonishing significance of his accidental discovery."This dwarfs _anything_ I've ever invented before!"

 **"** My Lord, you've done the unimaginable! Do you realize what this means?!" the professor exclaimed, bombarded by the infinite peril and potential of such a breakthrough. He watched as Steve began to marvel at his own creation, frolicking around the machine as he articulated the incredible possibilities like a poetic visionary.

"This'll change the whole world!" Steve cried with a grandiose sweep of his arm, "It'll revolutionize the police interrogation system! Ooh — politicians will be forced to tell the truth! And best of all…" he mused with awe, struck by the most beneficial use he could get out of his new superpower, "Men will finally know what the heck women are _thinkin'!_ "

...Screw an 'A'; the school needed a whole new letter to brand his epic genius with! He buzzed with anticipation for the rest of the day, careful to keep his telepathic abilities to himself once he decided not to reverse the effects… _not just yet._ Not while there were so still many … _wayward_ _thoughts_ to catch up on. He'd never been more eager to 'experiment' further on his amazing findings.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 17..._


	17. Who Let the Thoughts Out!

_**Chapter 17: Who Let the Thoughts Out?!**_

 _Summary: Steve deals with the unexpected backlash of his incredible breakthrough when he inadvertently gets wind of Laura's secret._

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING…**_

The last thing Laura wanted to do after the insane day she had was cook for the family, but she followed through on her promise with feigned graciousness, trying her best not to let on to the fact that turmoil was running through her veins. She caught her mind wandering several times as she prepared the meal, accidentally burning the sauce of the meatloaf and overcooking the vegetables into a soggy mess. Seems like she over seasoned them as well… _great_.

Oh, well. Too late to start over now. Besides, her appetite was nonexistent. She'd probably just pick at it and could honestly care less if her family liked it or not. Dismissing her blunders, she silently set the table as everyone but Eddie filed into the kitchen to take their places around it as she began to serve portions on their plates.

In the time that it took for Steve to make it home from the lab to wash up for dinner, he concluded that he probably needed to seriously reevaluate his naive worldview, thanks to the incredible side effects of his accidental discovery. He was beside himself with giddiness at the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to finally get a glimpse of what people were thinking since it magnified the truth of the world around him. What he wasn'texpecting was for that truth to be so inconsistent with his other five senses.

Of course, his musings eventually ended up right back to his lady love for the first time all day, wondering just how contradictory _her_ thoughts had been all this time. She'd never been this inconsistent in her treatment of him than she had been over the last few of months — she had him chasing his tail like a maniac, jumping from one foot to the other in utter confusion. Which led him to believe that there must've been answers to be found beneath the mysterious layers of her mind as well.

"Ooooh! Laura's cajun meatloaf! Sign me up for seconds!" Steve beamed, the last to arrive at the table after he came down the stairs to take in the familiar aroma of her signature dish. He saw that Laura had set his plate right next to hers, which had only become a thing in the last month or so — he remembered a time when he was barely welcome at the table. Taking his seat and pulling up the chair, he hid the fact that his heart skipped a beat when he caught the brief smile Laura shot him as she next to him.

Eagerly wielding his utensils, he secretly geared up in preparation for the barrage of thoughts sure to start bombarding him from all angles. Predictably, everyone but him seemed disillusioned by the mishmash they got instead of the fulfilling treat they'd expected… but of course, they kept their thoughts to themselves as they politely feigned satisfaction.

 _Mmm... Laura better marry a rich man. 'Cause the poor baby sure can't cook..._

…And Steve picked up on the collective disappointment immediately as the vibe around the table fell into an awkward silence, blinking as he peered at Harriette when her thought drifted into his mind, spotting the strained smile she mustered as she stomached the meal.

 _This meatloaf reminds me, I... I gotta repave the driveway._

He then quirked a brow at Carl at the opposite end of the table, who grimaced as if he was trying to chew through cardboard... with grace.

 _Man... this makes broccoli seem like dessert..._

 _I sure am glad I spoiled my dinner with a candy bar._

Peering quizzically across the table as Richie and 3J's thoughts carried, he noticed that they were the only ones who didn't try to hide their distaste on their faces as they picked at their loafs, which was typical of kids their age.

Curious to what all the objection was about, Steve took a hearty bite of the meatloaf …and it tasted fine to him! Chewing with content, he could appreciate the peppery toughness of it — if nothing else, the over-kill on spice would clear his sinuses! ...Then again, he'd eat a mud pie if it was prepared by Laura Winslow…whose mind seemed strangely quiet over there, but maybe that was good thing. Part of him was buzzing with anticipation for some form of clarity but the other part was ambivalent to find out…

It turns out that lucid thoughts were only transmitted through internalized words as opposed to visualization because Laura's mind was far from quiet. Stuck in a daze as she forked her plate pensively, she found herself taking several opportunities to appeal to her restless daydream by sneaking innocent peeks over at Steve when he wasn't paying attention. It was the first time she'd seen him that day and she was surprised to realize that just looking at him brought upon her the only semblance of peace she could find all week.

She couldn't tell if he was still mad at her but she became very aware of her own feelings, a swell of adoration sweetening the bitterness in her gut for the first time all day. As her eyes wistfully admired him, noticing that he was actually starting to grow a mustache, she couldn't deny that he'd certainly grown into himself recently... in fact, he was becoming far more handsome to her than she wanted to admit. The bad news was she couldn't blame alcohol on her kindling infatuation this time …maybe it was just his improving fashion sense starting to bring out his hidden good looks. The longer she took notice, the harder it became to peel her gaze away from him.

 _Mm... Steve looks really nice tonight._

…Stunned by the uncharacteristic feedback from Laura, Steve froze with anticipation as if to quiet his own mind in order to hear hers clearer, suddenly becoming cognizant of her fixated gaze. Stirred with shock, his veins immediately began to pulse hot-cold, enraptured by what she was implying.

 _I'm so confused ...I love Stefan, but lately, I'm attracted to Steve..._

Steve's eyes widened to saucers as he received her unprecedented musings clear as day and his fuse lit to the point of exploding right out of his seat as the endless weeks of love-sick disorientation was finally remedied with the truth. " _AH-HA!"_ he exclaimed fervently with an accusing point and he shot up from the chair so fast that it tumbled backwards on the floor. Abruptly breaking the tense silence with his unceremonious outburst, all eyes trained on him in perplexity." _I knew it!_ You _are_ attracted to me!"

...Busted. Laura's stomach dropped through the floor when she was suddenly exposed for the fraud that she was, riddled with alarm as all eyes then trained on _her_ with quirked brows ...she felt like she would spontaneously combust under everyone's scrutiny.

What threw her for a loop more than anything as she tried to keep from gaping in confusion was the fact that she couldn't figure out whether to not she'd said that out-loud. Feigning cluelessness, she tried to play off her uneasiness with an extremely nervous chuckle and a wavering grin of innocence as a chill of dread crept up her back. "Heh-eh-heh-heh... boy, you so crazy..." she stammered anxiously, completely unnerved. And she was hardly convincing — any wits she had left in upholding her charade had clearly lost steam.

But Steve wasn't having it. For once, he had sure-fire evidence of the contrary and he wasn't going to let her get away with lying to his face this time. "Ohhhh, no!" he rejected with a firm shake of his head, sticking to his guns as he reiterated earnestly, "I _distinctly_ heard you thinking you were attracted to me!"

Heard her ' _thinking'…?_ With the seams of her denial already unraveling beyond repair, the last thing she expected today was to be called out right here at the dinner table... how the hell did he know what she was _thinking?!_ Her face flushed beet red in embarrassment. Her anxiety beginning to tip on the edge of irritation, she dropped her fork in defeat and raised her brows at him, calmly probing him for answers because something just wasn't adding up. And the answer better be good. "…Steve. What's going on?"

When Steve realized the disconnect, he suddenly became aware of all the befuddled stares looking at him with the suspicion that he'd fallen off his rocker. Sedating his excitement long enough to address the confusion, he explained passively, "An experiment of mine backfired earlier today, and ...now I can read minds."

Not surprisingly, the kitchen erupted in a chorus of incredulous groans as they all automatically rejected the absurd claim... all but Laura. She was well aware that he was capable of incredible scientific marvels — she didn't dare put it past him. More than that, she also knew that he wasn't a liar. Disenchanted by what she considered to be a downright unethical invasion of her privacy, she rolled her eyes begrudgingly. Because that is _just_ what she needed today. It was starting to become clear to her that she couldn't run from this nightmare no matter what she did.

"Oh, no-no, it's true!" he insisted, but he knew the implications were far-fetched. The good news was that there was a very easy way to prove it to them. "Tell ya what. Somebody think of something, and I'll tell you what it is." And because he knew someone was bound to think something anyway, he paused to listen for the thought-waves.

… _The poor child has finally lost it._

There it is! Poising himself with determination, he stepped over to Harriette's side to rebuff her skepticism. "No, I _haven't_ , Harriette," he replied tightly, prompting her to stare up at him like he had two heads. He went on to echo her thought out-loud. "She was thinking: 'The poor child has finally lost it.'"

…Okay, well, _now_ she was convinced. Slightly spooked, Harriette just knitted her brows and gave Steve a dumbfounded stare. "…That's right!" In an instant, everybody's faces went blank in disbelief, suddenly afraid to think another thought as they looked at each other with timid uncertainty.

Now that his demonstration was out of the way, Steve turned back to Laura to firmly address the truth of her feelings. "Laura ...I read _your_ mind when you thought that you were attracted to me." Unfortunately, it passed right over his head just how tactless it was call her out in front of everybody.

And the more he insisted, the more irked Laura became, stiffening with the discomfort of her raging anxiety as she abandoned her dinner and stood from the hot seat he'd stuck her in. "…I better get outta here before I think something I might regret," she grumbled, disenchanted by the disregard of her privacy. "Steve. I don't know what you're up to, but reading minds is like opening up somebody else's mail," she scolded before brushing past him to make her escape up the stairs, taking her seething thoughts with her. It seemed they were playing a game of pass-the-grudge because now it was her turn to be angry with _him_.

Of course, it hit him right then that he probably should have kept this to himself, like he'd originally intended — his flare-up of excitement prevented him from being discreet with his new ability. But he immediately regretted his hastiness as he was admonished… and then abandoned by the family, one after the other, as they all shared Laura's gripe.

"You just don't do it," Harriette said to Steve firmly as she stood from the table, tossing her napkin onto her plate before calmly retreating from the kitchen in disappointment.

"This is creepy..." 3J said with a shudder as he dropped his fork and fled from the table.

"We're outta here!" Richie announced before following suit and dashing out of the kitchen behind 3J, leaving only Carl to share the awkward silence that followed as he sat pensively with his chin in his hands. Like Laura, he wasn't necessarily surprised — he'd had his fair share of experiences with Steve and his crazy experiments. But if nothing else, he recognized this as a classic example of taking his overactive imagination way over the line.

 _Yikes_. Well, Steve wasn't expecting the chill that came with their cold reaction. He immediately became disheartened, his excitement fading right along with his confidence in the experiment. "….Guys?" He just looked on helplessly as they all fled from him like he was some evil, mythical wizard that would melt their brains. Then again, he recognized that they weren't scientists and probably would have never looked at his discovery objectively. He peered at his mentor in confusion. "…Carl? I thought reading minds would be a _good_ thing…"

Poor dope. Carl just shook his head ruefully as he stood from the table. "Well, Steve... y'know," he began as he stepped to him to advise him on what should have been obvious from the start. "Invading someone's privacy is _never_ a good thing." Giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, he patiently brushed past him to make his exit as well.

…Gee. He hadn't even thought of that. Steve stood there isolated in pensive silence as he pondered over his mistake. He'd been so excited that he didn't even consider the possible pitfalls of beholding such powers… and as a scientist, he recognized just how irresponsible he'd been in running with his experiment without considering the unethical ramifications of the effects. Carl was right… maybe this _wasn't_ such a good idea. It would definitely mean disaster if such an discovery fell into the wrong hands… which was the case with most of his inventions.

Huffing a discouraged sigh, he flailed in defeat as he made the decision right then and there to reverse the effects… when he figured out how, that is. Considering that the results of his experiment didn't match his hypothesis at all, it would probably take him a few days to reevaluate his formula.

But first things first… he was a very patient guy but there were some things in this world that he simply couldn't ignore… like the possibility that the love of his life was _finally_ starting to… like him back? That thought alone sent an elated chill through him, instantly nullifying his discouragement as his heart pattered madly, straddling the fence of determination and apprehension. Peering speculatively towards the staircase, he spent several minutes debating with his conscience as he considered whether or not he should go after her…

* * *

And predictably, his heart won the battle over his mind in a landslide that provoked him to take the plunge. By the time Steve reached the upstairs corridor in search of Laura, he noticed that the entire house seemed to have fallen silent, indicating to him that he'd pretty much scared everyone off to their rooms. He could only guess that's where she had retreated to as well.

Cautiously approaching her bedroom door, he wondered just how he was going to talk to her _without_ invading her privacy at this point… but knowing that she was warming up to him had the potential to be on his side. He had never been the luckiest person in the world but he could only hope his shifting good fortune would carry him through.

"Laura?" he called timidly through the door but he wasn't surprised by the silence he got in return. Suspecting she was simply ignoring him, he tried again by landing a few soft knocks on it to get her attention. "Are you in there, my little sugarplum?"

" _Go away,_ Steve," Laura's voice finally muffled through the door sternly.

…Yeah, he figured as much. But he was prepared to beg if need be. He'd been doing it for years — even he knew that he'd gotten quite good at wearing her down… _especially_ over the last few months, it seemed. And now he knew why. "C'mon, Laura, we gotta talk about this!" he insisted, beseeching her earnestly, "I'm sorry about what happened but you can't just think something like that and then run for the border!"

Once again met with silence, he sighed in defeat and actually considered climbing through her window like the good ol' days… but that was when he remembered they weren't kids anymore and it wouldn't exactly be conducive to the whole privacy issue. He nearly threw in the towel after a long stretch of silence, only to perk with hope when she finally responded, pressing his ear against the door to hear her clearly. "…Not until you fix this. I can't be around you if you're gonna be picking my brain."

It was a fair request, but considering how much static had been between them lately, he was quite eager to swat away all of the confusion once and for all… and so he decided to persevere. "All right-all right! I'll go away… but only if we hash this out first!" he replied, only conceding with strings of his own attached. "I don't mean to invade your mind, sweetums, but do you really expect me to just sit on something like this?! It's like trying to do yoga poses while standing on hot coals!" Well… at least it didn't seem like thoughts transmitted through barriers because he had yet to pick up on any.

 _Ugh, figures… Oh God, kill me now. I can't believe he knows! …He knows-he knows! ...Shit-shit! What do I do now?!_

…Okaaaay, he was wrong. His brows shot up in surprise as what he could only assume to be her fuming thoughts began floating through the door. "Watch your filthy mind, Laura Winslow!" he reacted automatically with a dramatic gasp, derailed by her mental swear storm. She wasn't the cussing type but it made sense that she would save expletives for internal conversations… then he cringed with regret when he realized he was still breaking the rules. But he hastily offered a suggestion before she could dismiss him, "For starters, you can let me in so we can work this out!"

"...Stay outta my head, Steve! I mean it! I told you to _go away!_ " Laura's voice snapped angrily through door, confirming to them both that her thoughts were open season for probing.

"I can't help it! _Pleeeease_ , babycakes, just five minutes?" he implored diligently as he tried to coax her with mature rationale and a solemn promise, "We're supposed to be adults now, _riiiiight?_ So why not start acting like it? I'll try my absolute very best to just ...ignore your thoughts! If you talk to me, I promise I'll stay out of your sight until this is fixed."

…Knowing how impulsive Steve was, Laura didn't believe for a second that he would just 'ignore' her thoughts. But she also knew how altruistic he could be and that he never made a promise he couldn't keep… or at least _try_ to keep. Having slipped on her resolve hours ago, she knew the only way to get rid of him was to talk to him …reluctantly, she finally conceded to his request. Snatching the door open quickly, she grabbed his arm to yank him inside of her room… rather abruptly, at that, causing him to stumble inside with a startled yelp.

She peeked out of the door to make sure nobody else was lurking nearby before shutting it and turning to face him… and she did not look pleased. Crossing her arms furiously, she glared at him as she immediately began the third-degree, chiding him in a hushed tone... right, as if _that_ was going to contain her secret now. "I can't believe you, Steve! Why would you do something like this?! All so that you could get into my head?! Are you _that_ desperate?!" Maybe if she grilled him hard enough then neither one of them could hear her thoughts.

Recoiling from her sneer, Steve lifted his hands in surrender and his shoulders lifted to his ears innocently as he hurriedly tried to explain, " _NO_ , not at all, cuddlebug! _I told you_ , it was an accident! I was trying to create a way to boost memory capacity for my midterm project and it turns out I invented a device that amplifies the transmission of thought-wave frequencies instead! It makes the subject telepathic! For once, it had _nothing_ to do with you — it was literally the most random discovery since velcro, I swear!"

"Ugh, that's so...!" Laura huffed a disgruntled sigh as her annoyed retort went inarticulated... her head fell into her palm as his explanation filtered through her irritation, her thoughts indiscreetly contradicting the scowl of dissatisfaction on her face.

 _...That's so… that's actually... impressive. I wonder how he got that smart…_

 _Really_ , now? Steve quirked a brow as he picked up on her positive impression of his intelligence, suddenly poising himself with confidence as a kooky smirk of arrogance sprung to his lips, "You think I'm smart? …Diggin' the ol' swollen noggin, are ya?" Losing himself in his pride, he wiggled his brows at her mischievously.

...And Laura didn't find his aloofness funny. Reminded that her mind was wide open, she seethed in frustration, shielding her face with her hands in embarrassment. " _Steve!_ "

"Okay-okay!" he resigned as he quickly caught himself, promptly humbling up when he remembered the rules. It was clear to him that they would never get anywhere with this conversation if there wasn't some way to settle the score. The gears in his mind turned until a fair solution came to him. Snapping his fingers as an idea sprung to mind and he shot it at her with a point of his index finger. "Uhhh... _ooh!_ How about this? Since I can already read _your_ mind, I might as well clue you in on a secret of mine to call it even."

And that's when Laura became a little bit more receptive, composing her grievances long enough to lower her hands from her face in order to peer up at him with a curious knit in her brow.

 _Secret of his? What is he talking about?_

Steve had a feeling that he had no time to waste before he was run out of her room like a rabid squirrel and so he didn't continue to beat around the bush. Taking a step towards her, he became solemn as he shamelessly stepped into his truth. "Laura. If things have felt strange between us lately... well, it's not an accident. I've been... I've been trying really hard to pull up my big-boy britches and move on. I've done everything short of ripping my own heart out and jamming it in the garbage disposal," he lamented as he dealt with the confusion that always came with the possibility of not loving her anymore. It was almost too painful to think about. "A while back, I even made a potion that would completely neutralize residual subatomic engrams of my feelings for you."

 _...I really gotta learn how to speak Einstein..._

That was Laura's first reaction since a good portion of that statement made absolutely no sense, as was the case whenever Steve used scientific jargon to spell things out. His confession only had her eyes wandering in search of the puzzle pieces that would help her make sense out of what he was trying to say. "...You did? What does that even mean?"

Privy to the fact that laymen's terms were about as far as he was going to go with this explanation, he kept his elaboration simple, "Well, it means... it means that I had a real chance to stop loving you for good. But I terminated the experiment before finishing the final trials."

...And Laura became pensive as she pondered what he was implying, peering at him quizzically. "Wait, you're saying you were trying to fall out of love with me?" To her surprise, the thought that he almost gave up on her — via the scientific method, at that — was more gut-wrenching than it should have been... and try as she might, she couldn't hide the dejection in her voice... or her thoughts.

 _...Well, that sucks. Pick your face up off the floor, Laura._

It was then that she tried to recall a time when hearing something like that would have had her doing cartwheels of joy... she could only wonder where those days went because now she felt almost mournful toward the very possibility.

He gave a somber shrug as another realization came to him, "I've been regretting my decision not to use it... until _now_ , that is." Tossing the hint that she'd effectively changed his mind as of today, he sheepishly peeked up at her with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

Hugging herself in order to quell the discomfort his confession brought, she seemed to only come up with one dispirited response to it as she tried not to squirm with the guilt of even asking. "...Why?"

"'Why?!' Can you blame me?!" Steve squawked as he countered the rhetorical question with a defeated flail of his arms... had she not been present for the last few months or something? Because the answer seemed obvious to him! But he indulged in the relief that came with finally getting it off his chest and relented to her curiosity. "This whole thing has been burning my biscuits, Laura! Lately, I can't tell if you'd rather kiss me or stab me in the chest."

 _...Neither can I._

Submitting to his stinging honesty, Laura just hung her head in shame, knowing full well that she'd brought this entire situation onto both of them. Taming her irritation, she also knew that he had every right to feel that way. Noticing that she was becoming reflective, she actively tried to redirect her thoughts to nothingness... unfortunately, it became harder to do the longer he stood there.

"All this time…I thought you were just playing a cruel prank on me…" he continued solemnly, only to soften with the hope that had been buzzing beneath his skin since her accidental disclosure of her feelings. "But the truth is that you really _do_ care about me, don't you?!"

"Steve…!" Put on the spot for confirmation, Laura began to squirm with uneasiness again, her frustration once again burgeoning when her reluctance to spill it became too strong. Fortunately for Steve, her thoughts did all the work for her.

 _Ugh, it's so hard not to think! I can't even look at him without thinking about that kiss…_

Catching a brief, but undeniable glimmer of desire in her eyes as her gaze trained on his lips, he recoiled with a gasp of shock. Once again blind-sided by the contradictions he was finding in her thoughts, he dropped the ball with his careful handling of her privacy and blurted eagerly, "So you _do_ remember that night! And that kiss?! …All those wonderful things you said?"

 _Aw, to hell with it._

"…Yes, Steve! You got me, okay?!" Laura cried in surrender and gave an exasperated flail of her arms. It's not like he was clueless anymore and he'd caught her red-handed — there was really no point in denying it any further... especially not to herself. Interestingly enough, she found that actually admitting it to him made it easier to stomach... it brought an eerie sense of calm over her as she regarded him with sincerity, "I've _started_ to like you…"

 _More than I care to admit._ Catching herself, she winced with the regret of letting her thoughts run amuck, her hands lifting to hold her shaking head as she admonished herself. _Oh, God, don't think that out-loud!_

...The clouds that had been casting relentless shadows on Steve's heart began to part and let a little sunshine in. Just hearing her say it — and _think_ it — was enough to keep him afloat for the rest of his life and suddenly all of the indiscretions of the last fourteen years fell away like shattered ice, his sense of hope revitalized to all-time high. He suddenly felt light as a feather as he stared at her affectionately, dazed into a stupor as he noticed her gaze warming up to him as well. If she thought he was crazed by the sight of her before, she _officially_ ruined him in that moment.

But in the midst of his euphoric high, he still detected a hint of skepticism gnawing at him as the inconsistency of her actions pinched at him and he frowned with confusion. "Then... why did you lie to me? Why are you acting like things haven't changed?"

Ah, the grand mystery. Laura scoffed at herself and rolled her eyes as her arms coiled around her midriff again to imprison herself in her guilt. Her self-deprecating thought process read all over her face as she considered his question.

 _...I'm too scared, that's why! I'm such a coward, I don't wanna be — SHUT UP, LAURA._

Wincing in annoyance at the difficulty in taming her thoughts, she quickly deflected them with the most honest explanation she could come up with... and the best she could think of was a metaphor since mythical parallels seemed to satisfy him the most. "Isn't it obvious? I can't go down that road with you! We're on two completely different paths and they're not crossing anytime soon." Becoming discouraged by the internal paradox of her words and feelings, she began to rub at her temples once she felt the headache of confusion she'd been carrying with her all day pulse back to life.

 _It would never work anyway._

"Says who?!" Steve barked in reply... though it was unclear whether he was responding to her words or her thoughts. Same difference. Thrown a line by her glorious metaphor, he reeled it home with a few of his own stacked neatly onto it, "Why, all we need are ...are the right directions!"

Becoming wistful, he actively began to reflect on what the literal 'trip' down that road would look like as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, peering up to the ceiling. "...A map and ...maybe a compass? And some road songs. Maybe a little trail mix, too, so we don't get hungry. And a flashlight if it gets too dark!" Training his dreamy eyes on her, his tone began to implore her for some kind of recognition that the way there was easier than she thought. "We might get lost along the way, but that doesn't mean we're not headed to the same destination. The thing is, Laura... we can make the decision to detour in that direction right now." All she really had to do was trust him... and most of all, trust herself.

 _Somehow... that made complete sense..._

...Laura found herself captivated by his riveting embellishment of her metaphor, blinking out of a daze she found herself in as she watched the brilliance of his mind tick. Suddenly his fan-dangled antics didn't seem so... quirky. She couldn't help but admire his uncanny ability to color his imagination so vividly... but it only brought her to a wall since her doubts began to rip through any hint of optimism she managed to see in all of this. Becoming shackled by her pessimism, along with the obligations they both held elsewhere, she regarded him with somber candor.

"Steve... listen, I'm so sorry for misleading you. But… _this_..." — she gestured indicatively between them — "whatever this is... can't go any further. There's too much at stake, including _our_ friendship. Besides, I'm with Stefan and you've got … _a 'situation'_ … as well," she said, accompanying his 'situation' with sarcastic air quotes before crossing her arms again, steeling her stubborn resolve as she became firm in her delivery, "Like I said, I don't think we can go down that road. End of discussion." In an attempt to avoid further discussion, she began to reach for the knob of the door.

Steve didn't even need to know what she was thinking to know what she was feeling — it read crystal clear on her expression as her marred countenance filtered through her tangled emotions... but the moment she began to resist the truth yet again, he perked with anxiety as he felt his opportunity to nab her slipping through his fingers... a dreadful feeling that was all too familiar.

Becoming proactive in controlling their exchange, he rushed to the door in a frenzy to keep her from opening it prematurely, placing his hand on it as he stammered, "B-But, Laura… if you feel that way, then why did you kiss me like that in the first place? My ears are _still_ ringing from the voices of the angels undulating with joy..." He couldn't help but become wistful as the memory replayed in his head for the millionth time since it happened, staring at her like the shooting star he was destined to chase for all eternity.

...Secretly, Laura's heart lept in her throat the moment he came unexpectedly close to her, boldly confronting her at her own game... and he was getting really good at beating her at it. Becoming frustrated that the familiar dynamic of her kicking him out with little effort had completely broken down, she just groaned in frustration, avoiding his piercing gaze as scrubbed her hands through her hair. "Ugh, _I_ _don't know!"_

 _Liar._

"…Because… because…" she stuttered, her eyes wandering helplessly in a feverish search for a satisfactory response. But try as she might, she couldn't stop the truth from ringing loud and clear in her consciousness ...especially when she found that her gaze seemed to always magnetically train on him no matter how hard she tried to peel it away... and her eyes met his innocently.

 _Because lately, he's kinda sexy and I reeeeally wanted to…_

 _Blink!_...Yeah, that was enough to push Steve right into the wall next to him. Completely blown away by the sultry undertone of her fleeting thought, he recoiled in surprise and found himself stumbling backwards until his back collided against it with widened eyes. "...Come again?" he squeaked faintly as air was drawn from his lungs, leaving him breathless.

 _Attractive_ , sure... he considered himself to be an adorable package. But... _sexy?_ The only person who had ever been crazy enough to think that about him was Myra and it was a fresh day in la-la land when Laura Winslow held the same mindset. Shaking his head in disbelief, he couldn't help but frantically speculate over his shock, slipping up on his promise to keep her privacy sacred yet again, "...I'm...I'm _what?!_ You _did?!_ You think I'm — _w-what_ did you just think?!"

 _...Aw, crap!_

Realizing he'd heard that clear as day, all she could do was face-palm in misery, branding herself an idiot. Becoming fed up to the brink of tears, she grabbed the door in frustration again and snatched it open to make a rankled ushering gesture out of the threshold, desperate to put an end to the day-long discomfort she'd had to endure. "Okay, that's it — get out of my room, Steve!" There it is! She almost wanted to deflate with relief that she still knew how to kick him out... to a certain degree.

"Okay, I'm sorry-I'm sorry!" Steve recovered quickly from his shock in order to circumvent her building irritation. Pushing himself from the wall, he respectfully inched closer to the open door but tried his best to restore her trust. "I didn't mean to intrude on that, we'll forget I ever heard it." _...Yeah, right._ He already had plans to etch on his grave stone that Laura Winslow had officially recognized him as a stud ...but whatever was going to get her to listen to him!

When he saw her began to visibly calm herself, he gently took the opportunity to place his hands on her shoulders, his candid sincerity managing to keep her attention steady as she peered up to him helplessly, her eyes deeply vulnerable and causing his heart to melt with empathy. "Listen, Laura. There's nothing to be embarrassed about but we can't keep doing this to each other. Now if you _really_ value our friendship, then just be honest with me. I shouldn't have to read your mind to know what's on your heart. You should always feel like you can tell me anything!"

 _...I know he's right. I could always tell him anything... even when I hated him._

She had to admit that to herself... and when she recognized that she was doing their friendship a disservice by being stubborn, she just conceded to her confusion with the deeper layers of her truth spilling over the rim of her denial. "…Fine, I _wanted_ to kiss you, all right? I've wanted to kiss you again since the auction. And I meant everything I said to you…" she admitted softly... and as she predicted, Steve's fragile composure was sliced by her confession like a knife through butter, rolling her eyes as he clutched his heart with a dramatic sob of happiness. "But!" she interjected sternly before he could get too carried away... sighing with regret once he had poised himself for the second half of her confession, "As you know, I wasn't necessarily in my right mind that night, okay? It wasn't supposed to ... _come out_."

 _Who am I kidding? I haven't been in my right mind ever since._

...Hmm. Steve certainly couldn't tell that it wasn't supposed to come out. Because come out it did. And he knew for a fact that she couldn't have kissed him like that and told him all of those things if it hadn't been on her mind for a while... and that's when an intrusive thought came to him, his brows knitting as he regarded her dubiously, "And what about Stefan? …Are you just gonna dangle a carrot knowing you feel this way about me?" Where he had declined on asking before, suddenly it seemed relevant to know whether he was real reason she was holding back.

 _...Look who's talkin'!_

Sharper than a tack, Laura succinctly retorted with a narrow of her eyes and a cant of her head. "You've done it for years with Myra; _should_ I?"

In that instant, Steve suddenly felt gleaming resentment just bouncing off of her and he narrowed his eyes right back at her suspiciously. "Buttercup? …Are you ... _a-jealous?"_ he asked pointedly, leaning to quirk a brow at her.

" _Pfffft,_ pleeease," she scoffed disparagingly with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms sternly yet again as she shifted from one foot to the other indignantly, completely unaware that her body language would have been a dead giveaway had it not been for her thoughts flying through the airwaves with reckless abandon.

 _Jealous of what, exactly?! That nut basket couldn't hold a candle to me even if she burst into flames... which is bound to happen sooner or later._

 _GAAAAASSSSSP!_ "Holy barnacles, batman! You're _actually_ jealous!" Steve blurted with an excited gasp as his jaw hit the floor, instantly riled by the very idea that he even had the ability to make her jealous... it was starting to look as if she was more into him than she was letting on.

"I am not!" Laura gritted defensively, stiffening as she became embittered by his accusation, once again caught red-handed in her tactless and futile efforts to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Are too!" He rebuked her lie with an accusing point, a brow wiggling as he smirked with impish satisfaction, "Admit it, baby, the green-eyed monster is hiding under that poker face, ain't he?!"

"Ugh…" Her flushing face found its rightful place behind her hands yet again with a rueful shake of her head as she was rendered speechless, her racing mind drowning out any hope in redeeming her guilty silence.

 _Why me, Lord? First this stupid rumor and now this... You've reached to the beginning of the end, Laura. Congratulations._

"...Huh?" ...Steve's brows furrowed with confusion as he picked up on a disturbing thought that derailed his enthusiasm, sobering his excitement as he inquired with concern, "...What rumor?" Besides being completely exposed at the dinner table earlier, it suddenly made sense as to why she was so listless if she happened to be dealing with other stresses that were heavy on her heart. "Who was it?! Who do I have to _end_ tonight!?" he asked firmly, bravely offering his help as he always did when she was stuck in a hole.

Unfortunately, Laura had reached the final threads of her rope of sanity as it began to unravel, no longer having the patience to maintain her wits for this conversation... especially since he _continued_ to break his promise not to just help himself to her thoughts. " _...Ugh! Nevermind!_ " she barked sharply as she pulled the door open wider, giving a forceful push on his shoulder to escort him through it. _"_ Look, your five minutes were up five minutes ago! Get _out!"_

"Okay-okay!" Steve resisted as she tried to shove him across the threshold, grabbing ahold of the frame before she could shove him out completely, eagerly trying to put them back on a path to resolution. "W-wait, Laura! I just need to know _one more_ thing and I'll leave," he insisted calmly, prompting her to cant her head at him as she tapped her foot impatiently, awaiting his timid punchline. "...What do we do _now?_ "

 _God, why can't he just leave well enough alone?!_

"...Nothing!" she spat in frustration as she frowned at him — she thought they'd already established this much. To drive the nail into the coffin of her unyielding resistance as she always did when he pressed to hard, she followed up harshly with, "You weren't even supposed to find out, Steve! But if you need suggestions, I say start with that potion you started…"

 _You don't mean that, Laura, you idiot!_

"…But, Laura —!"

"Look, we're _just friends,_ Steve! And maybe that's all we'll ever be," she interjected sternly, becoming somber as her persistence hardened in the wake of her frustration, secretly swelling with regret the longer she looked at him, disappointed in herself that she still had the nerve to push him away after all of this time... despite all of the barriers she was throwing at him, she still couldn't keep the impulse from sneaking a peek at his lips to admire their fullness... and she didn't even noticed that she began to nibble on her own bottom lip.

 _I gotta get him outta here. Don't wanna make the same mistake twice... can't blame it on being drunk this time..._

… _Oh, my._ Well, Steve noticed it all! It suddenly became pretty difficult not just steal a kiss from her if it meant calming her anxiety... and quelling her obvious desire to lay one on him anyway. But he had already played games with her respect by invading her privacy and so he restrained his hormonal impulses like a good boy.

But it didn't keep him from being reduced to pleading earnestly as he stuck his foot in the door to keep her from shutting it in his face. "Oh, _c'mon_ , love dove! Don't ya see this is becoming impossible?! Just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it. I'll do anything, you know that." ...And perhaps his plea penetrated because he immediately saw her expression soften with admiration, apparently becoming deeply moved by his words. This much was affirmed by the innocent thought that transmitted to him shortly afterward.

 _...Awwwwwww! Why does he always have to be so... sweet?! He's making this so much harder... I love that about him._

Sighing as her rigid resolve was once again broken by his passionate charm, she felt defeated by the emotional match they'd just endured and could only offer up one task for him to complete if he planned on seeing her anytime soon... perhaps they could jump off sturdier bridges when they came to them. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, her eyes implored him as she made one final, gentle request, "Then just... _fix this._ Please? I don't wanna have to keep my distance."

And with that, Steve was forced to succumb to her steeled will as she began to slowly shut the door on him, their gazes lingering helplessly until the barrier separated them completely, getting wind of a few parting thoughts of hers as he began to back away from the door, stiffening with astonishment.

 _...I can't believe this; my heart is beating so fast… Why is this happening to me? It's still so weird... I can't even remember what it felt like to despise him..._

"...Oh, _my glorious stars and stripes_." Steve couldn't help but gape as his knocking knees and wavering balance had him back-peddling into another wall in the corridor, staring at her door with unquenchable desire as he clutched his pounding chest in awe. "...Laura's _attracted_ to _me_ ," he mused to himself in disbelief, grinning like a whimsical idiot. "She... she _actually likes_ me... Not 'take-a-potion-feel-the-motion' attracted to me, but... really, really, really _'come-to-me-now'_ attracted to me..."

Even though he was no closer to resolving the blatant romantic tension between them... he was just shocked it was there at all! And the more he said it out-loud, the harder it was to believe... but thoughts didn't lie. And neither did her eyes, no matter how much she tried to hide it. He finally knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was into him... and it was incredibly fulfilling to know that his love for her had the potential to _finally_ be requited.

"Two miracles in one day…" he praised himself haughtily with a satisfied nod, coyly regarding the large plant on a nearby end table as his one and only witness to this rare phenomenon. "Somebody up there still likes me, my friend!" Heck, this was better than winning the lottery! He could officially die a happy man.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 18..._


	18. Conspiracy Weary

_**Chapter 18: Conspiracy Weary**_

 _Summary: Steve puts his foot down when he learns of the disjointed rumors being spread about Laura... but he's not the only one who finds out about them._

* * *

If only Steve knew what he was in for when he decided to take his new ability for a test drive. On the one hand, he was rejuvenated when it became clear that the impossible was an obsolete concept in his world. But on the other, he didn't expect the streams of thoughts that bombarded him constantly to numb his mind to the point where it debilitated his ability to focus. The excitement he'd gained for his experiment was suddenly nullified by the consequences it brought him and he spent the next few days scrambling to find a solution. And as promised, he kept his distance and found relief in his isolation as he tinkered away.

Finding an angle for the reversal of the effects, he finally sought Laura out to apologize to her for his reckless mind-snooping and invited her to spectate the experiment. Sending himself through the power cycle again, at first it seemed as if he'd successfully neutralized his mind-reading abilities… at a price. Unfortunately, he ended up frying a circuit or two in his short-term memory and for three days straight, she watched as he wandered around in a fog of confusion like his skull had hollowed out. During the times when he could barely remember her name, Laura had to wonder what else he'd let slip his mind as he tried to recover from yet another 'snafu' of bizarre scientific mishaps.

…And her fragile ego wasn't helped when she noticed that Steve's short attention span had been effectively lassoed and held hostage by Myra, who was diligent in keeping him to herself for the most part. She took full advantage of his memory coma by constantly reminding him who he was 'really' in love with. And as a slave to his induced amnesia, he was more than accommodating to the idea. In fact, Myra made sure to rub it in Laura's face every time they happened to be in the same room. As a result, the uncertainty surrounding the nature of their friendship remained foggy to the point where their enlightening conversation had the potential to dwindle into insignificance.

As much as she had insisted that they'd reached the end of the road when it came to resolving those feelings, Laura didn't know whether to feel relieved or perturbed by the fact that her little secret could be forgotten. And with Stefan in and out of the country almost every other week lately, she found herself slowly being consumed by her isolation, forced to wiggle out of the emotional quicksand she'd almost drowned in. At least her boyfriend still seemed clueless about the extent of her dilemma and it secretly had her hoping he stayed away until the madness blew over.

What didn't seem to fade was the outrageous rumor about her that continued to circulate around campus like a contagion and she found herself actively avoiding the grounds for fear of being confronted by her nosy peers. As a result, she remained blissfully unaware of just how deeply the lie began to fester…

* * *

 _ **ABOUT A WEEK LATER…**_

By the time Steve fully recovered from his amnesia, his first memory-jogger happened to be the most disturbing thing he'd caught wind of in a while. Spotting Laura's picture on several rogue flyers distributed around campus, he was not only reminded of her recent confession of her feelings, but tipped him off to the 'rumor' her thoughts accidentally revealed to him that night.

Examining the attack ads, he saw the downright disrespectful attempt to smear her name — clipart of piñatas and tequila bottles surrounded her smiling photo along with demeaning phrases such as 'Queen of Quarters — Need Some Change?', 'Take A Smash — The Prize is Waiting' and 'Resident Piñata sponsored by Delta Tau Sigma'… and then, to put the icing on the cake, when he toured the campus to investigate, he'd been informed through floating gossip that not only had Laura broken up with Stefan, but had made out with some random creep... it suddenly made sense as why she seemed so flustered lately… beyond the fact that she secretly had the hots for him, on top of everything!

Even though he was kind of relieved that he was never personally identified as the 'random creep' in the conspiracy, he wasn't going to stand for any besmirching of his lady love's precious reputation, especially since he was the only one who knew the truth about what happened the night of the party. What was downright infuriating was that the fabrication directly piggy-backed off the special moment he'd shared with her. Due to this and other clues that jumped out at him on this disgusting campaign trail, he knew immediately who was behind this travesty and he geared himself up to confront the culprit.

 _"Myra!"_ Steve's nasally falsetto echoed sharply through his girlfriend's house, enraged as he barged through the front door without invitation… which was typical for him, but unlike everyone else in the free world, Myra never minded when he made a surprise visit. Clutching a crumpled copy of the flyer, he began to pace frantically through the house in search of her, grumbling angrily under his breath as he stomped up the stairs towards her room… or 'The Urkel Lair' as he liked to call it, always unnerved by the sight of his own face plastered on every square inch of her walls.

… _Uh-oh!_ Myra's jovial humming halted abruptly when her honeybun's voice pierced through her bedroom door. Pausing the naughty sketch of Steve she'd been obsessively absorbed in, her impish smirk collapsed when she detected his undeniable agitation. She was certainly caught off guard by his presumed anger considering that her attempts to manipulate his favor seemed to have been pretty successful since he'd lost his memory… it certainly made carrying out her plan to destroy Laura a lot easier. But she had a feeling that the glory of revenge was about to hit a wall in full-on crash dummy mode…

She quickly hid the sketch pad under her pillow the moment he plowed into her room, flashing him an innocent grin as she clasped her hands in her lap like the perfect little lady. "Oh, Stevie!" she chirped with a shimmy of excitement, attempting to extinguish his rage with her overbearing sweetness. "Hi there, honey bump! What a pleasant surprise —"

"What's the meaning of this?" Steve interjected tightly as he approached her, wasting no time with presenting the evidence of her despicable crime as he unfolded the flyer and thrust it into her hands. Towering over her, he chided her with an admonishing scowl, "Do you realize how cruel and insensitive this is?! Not to mention _dishonest!"_

Myra recoiled in surprise, alarmed by his assertiveness as she was forced to take the flyer… but she didn't bother to give it a glance since she already knew what it was and couldn't care less how it affected that… _trollop_. In fact, she dialed up her cluelessness, completely ignoring his accusation and instead reveling in the aroused shudder his anger brought her… because to her, he was irresistible when he was mad, crooning seductively, "Mmm, that's right, Hulk it up, baby…"

But the twinkle in her eye faded as she sized him up and lamented the fact that he continued to be untrue to her vision of what his style should be. He was wearing jeans that actually fit and a simple burgundy button-up that bored her, almost canceling out her arousal as she took notice. And she couldn't say that she approved of his attempts to mellow out his look. "Snugglebuns, you're looking awfully … _plain_ today," she said dryly, shaking her head with a displeased knit of her brow. "Where, oh, _where_ are those fireman-yellow suspenders I just got for you?" she purred as she reached out to seductively hook a finger through one of his belt loops.

 _Sigh..._ Steve just rolled his eyes irritably, disenchanted by her predictable attempts to manipulate him. "Answer me, Myra!" he demanded as he grabbed her hand and snatched it away defiantly, which caused her to blink in confusion. Yeah, he clearly wasn't going to let her get away with her distasteful antics this time and she just sighed, a look of apathy crossing her features as he continued to ream her. "Why are you soliciting Laura like some campus call-girl from south of the border?! And don't lie to me 'cause I know it was you!"

 _Blah, blah, blah…_ Myra just gave a disinterested shrug as she waved the wrinkled sheet of paper between her thumb and forefinger like a used piece of tissue. "I don't know what you're talking about, Stevie! How is it my fault _your little friend_ is the talk of back alleys? I had _nothing_ to do with this monstrosity," she denied, lifting her chin to the ceiling dramatically.

"Oh, no?!" Steve snarled in reply, snatching the paper from her grip to incriminate her with clear-cut evidence, turning it over to read the fine print at the bottom of the page. "'Inquire about the lewd conduct suit in question at Boutrose and Boutrose Litigations'?!"

 _..._ Apparently, she'd forgotten all about her little footnote. Suppressing the urge to cringe with guilt under his glaring scrutiny, her shoulders lifted to her ears as she carefully tried to adjust her halo with a bright grin, batting her eyes at him innocently. "…An unfortunate coincidence!" She had no reason to deny it other than the fact that she was well aware of the thin line she was walking with his respect, which she could tell was beginning to chisel away... if only he hadn't gotten his memory back.

"Oh, _bovine feces!_ This is _completely_ uncalled for and I won't stand for it! _"_ he exclaimed with a frustrated flail of his arms. He wasn't sure if it was the renewed hope in his chances with Laura or the downright exhaustion he was beginning to feel as a victim to Myra's manipulation, but it was certainly empowering to sternly enforce his boundaries these days... especially with his defiant girlfriend, who always had him chasing his tail at every turn.

Well, not this time! Regarding her with an accusing point, he firmly stated his demands as his spine poised with determination, refusing to stutter or blink: _"_ You remove all of this preposterous propaganda right now or we're through!" he threatened with a chopping gesture of his arm ...he didn't know if he meant it or not but he knew that it was the only method of intimidation he had in his arsenal that would make her comply. Secretly, he was hoping she would throw him that bone but they both knew she wouldn't give up that easy.

...Myra's jaw quietly fell open as she was taken aback, shook with the terror induced by his unimaginable threat. _How dare he?!_ When she originally envisioned her plan unfolding, it always ended with him seeing Laura for the scum bucket she was and he would be forced to crawl back to her in surrender. But here she was, putting a mental check on the scorecard instead — this was the _second_ time he pointed out the finish line of their relationship and she immediately stood down as a result. There would not be a third strike until _she_ said so.

"...Now, now, let's not stoop to foolishness and go losing our heads here, sweetie. I assure you, Stockholm Syndrome is completely curable. Just a few electric shock treatments —" she replied with disingenuous compassion, only to be curbed by Steve's bold objection.

"Oh, clamp it, Myra!" he barked rigidly as he became fed up. He rarely took the dominant stance in their interactions but his demands were certainly alarming enough to force her into submission. It seemed like the dynamics in most of Steve's relationships were starting to remold themselves in an unpredictable way. It was slowly starting to dawn on him just how much power he had over this little minx.

Stiffening her jaw with a helpless pout, she crossed her arms indignantly. Shouldn't _she_ be the one upset with him for kissing another woman in the first place? The way she saw it, she wouldn't have had to stoop so low if it hadn't been for his silly little crush to begin with... the sudden reversal of dominance in their exchange was very unsettling. She suddenly felt powerless as she exhausted her tactics to dissuade him and when he didn't stand down, she was instead reduced to sugary charm.

"...Okay, I'm going to let that slide just this once," she twittered sweetly... which oddly contradicted her impatient scowl and the twitch of her right eye. "But you better believe that we're gonna have a _looooong_ talk about our volume later, mister," she insisted with a firm point.

But Steve was far from concerned about his volume, disregarding her frustration to express his own as he continued to berate her, "No one deserves to be branded with lies! Not Laura or anybody! And dragging her through the mud is as bad as dragging me through a swamp! Where's your self-respect?!"

 _Right in the same gutter that strumpet crawled out of!_...Well, that's what Myra _wanted_ to say but she bit the bullet so hard, she feared her teeth would shatter as she gritted with frustration. To her chagrin, she recognized in that moment that their relationship was taking a sharp left turn off the tracks and try as she might, her attempts to disrupt his desire to change were crashing and burning before her very eyes. And recovering from that disaster was far more important to her than wasting time debating over the home-wrecker he insisted on defending.

Hindered by his inflexibility, she found that her only option was to grovel. And so in an instant, her own determination appeared to melt away as she stepped into her sheep's outfit, keeling over to fake-cry into her hands, feigning remorse, "...Ohhhh, I'm _soooo_ _soooorry, poo-kums!_ " she sobbed dramatically before peeking out from behind her hands to pout innocently at him, "That Witch of the Midwest _made_ me do it!"

 _Ladies and gentleman, the Oscar goes to..._ Steve just shook his head ruefully, wondering why she continued to assume that he was born yesterday. "Oh, for _shaaame,_ Myra!" he admonished, scraping the skin of his index finger with the opposite digit. "I know how you feel about Laura but this is _beneath_ you! Your jealously is crawling out of your pores, woman!"

 _"Oy, vey_ ," she just sighed in defeat. Getting back on his good side had never been this difficult before... it seems this deplorable spell he was under was a lot stronger than she realized. Once again displaced by his refusal to budge, her act of shame fell away just as quickly as it appeared and she ran out of any other option but to be accountable, "I couldn't help it, Stevie. After what she did to you... to _me_ , I ... well, I guess I just got a little _carried away_ ," she admitted calmly with a callous shrug of one shoulder... she was owning up to it but she _far_ from sorry.

Secretly, if he wasn't on her case so much right now, she probably would have upped the ante of her attack campaign. Alas, it was clear that her chances of losing him were even more precarious because of her actions... and since he was the ultimate spoil of this battle, pushing him away wasn't an option. As painful as it was to surrender, she managed to find a morsel of humility to play on. "If it means that much to you... I'll guess I'll just have to wave my white flag and rip up scarlet's letter," she conceded reluctantly, giving an embittered roll of her eyes before making it crystal clear: "But _only_ because you asked me to."

...Hm. Actually, Steve was expecting her to put up a tougher fight than that and his brows raised suspiciously. But he had to wonder just how much influence he could hold over her dwindling willpower to keep him confined to a ball and chain. He leaned towards her speculatively to firmly add another term to his demands, "And you'll tell the truth about all of these outrageous lies?" Not that it mattered because if she didn't, then he would. He was sure that would be quite the task considering the rumor had spread like wildfire but it wasn't the first time he'd stepped up to the occasion on Laura's behalf.

Predictably, Myra was insolent, giving another shrug as she twisted her mouth apathetically. "Why should I? All's fair in love and war. The Bible says so!"

"Myrrraaaa..." Steve drawled, cautioning her about the line in the sand she was about to overstep.

… _Oh, bugger!_ The fear of losing him had her trapped in a corner, unfortunately. Flailing restlessly as she was overthrown by defeat, she just gave a repulsed scoff, conceding tentatively, "...Oh, all right! _Fine._ " How he'd managed to get her to agree to this after he was the one who cheated, she'd never know. She didn't want to believe it but she saw in that moment that he really was turning into a completely different person ...and she didn't like it. She lamented this much as she became pensive, "I just don't get it, Stevie. She breaks your heart over and over again, tries to snatch what's mine right from under me, and you continue to defend her..."

Steve wasn't necessarily looking at this situation from her perspective. In fact, he'd never seen their relationship the way she did but it's not like he hadn't warned her from the very beginning but he felt his guilt over it slipping. Try as he might to be her sidekick, he had always been loyal to his own heart first. And now that he knew about Laura's feelings, he'd never been more determined to stay true to it. He may have been wrong for stringing her along but Myra was the one who constantly begged to ride that rollercoaster with him.

But as he would go on to explain, there was a deeper principle to be addressed that always bothered him about these kinds of pranks, "You don't understand! This is bigger than Laura — it's personal to me! Don't you realize that I've been subjected to this type of cruelty my whole life? It's just plain wrong, Myra! This isn't something I should have to preach to you!" he insisted, disappointed that she'd ever had to stoop this low. But before he could become restless enough to dismiss her, Myra's mood suddenly switched on a dime in an attempt to reel him back into her favor.

"...Have I ever told you all that _strong_ moral fortitude makes me... _weak..._ in the knees?" she purred gutturally, smirking impishly as she suddenly began to ooze with desire, a twinkle of lust in her eye. She was hardly moved by his gripes since her logic was simple: everyone else but him and her were crazy, not the other way around. With that kind of arrogant outlook, it was no wonder she treated the world like her own little personal playground. And time waits for no one — not when she had her relationship hanging in the balance.

"Oh, _brother_..." Steve bellyached aloud, rolling his eyes as he pivoted to make his exit before he could fall into any of her contradictory traps. Ripping up the flyer as he walked to the door in defeat, he tossed the shredded paper into her wastebasket and grabbed the doorknob without another word. He'd had enough of her Myra Magic for one day.

 _...Oh, come on!_ Myra wanted to seethe as she took note of his indifference, peeved by the idea that her glorious masterings of seduction had fallen stale, but it only motivated her to reel a little harder. " _Steven,_ " she chimed sweetly, canting her head with the innocence of a cherub as she beseeched him calmly, "Now that all's forgiven, I need you to get over here and slob me down." Seemed like a good way to bury the hatchet so that they could go back to being two peas in a pod again.

But Steve refused to bite, defiantly tugging the door open in protest of her bewitching antics. …For a split second, he was distracted with the delightful realization that he didn't run right into the door this time, giving himself a silent pat on his own back before proudly, and safely, making his way across the threshold. Peering at her with a dubious twist of his mouth, he paused his exit to throw a snarky remark over his shoulder. "Y'know, Myra... it wouldn't kill ya to set a timer every now and then. I can tell you missed your meds this morning!" Because this chick was the female Jekyll and Hyde. He politely pulled up the door behind him.

…Well, while that was true, it didn't mean that she felt any less deserving of his affection! His sarcasm going right over her head, she perked in a last-ditch effort to gain his attention, shooting him a childish pout when he ignored her advances, her tone becoming fussy and demanding, "…Hey! Come back here! I said I want my make up kiss!"

Steve's head quickly reappeared through the door to give her a proper response. "Then you'll find it where those doggone suspenders are! Down the _drain!_ " he snapped back defiantly before slamming the door behind him in agitation. He was seriously beginning to question the sustainability of this ... _'situation',_ as Laura put it. At least she didn't name off the schools their 'children' would be going to next fall… he just may have screamed.

"...They don't have to be yellow!" she insisted desperately after a beat, hoping her plea was heard as he stomped away. "Would you like blue better?!" she offered charmingly, only to be met with the frustration of letting him get away. "Oh, rats...! You're such a rattlehead, Myra!" she berated herself …though not for the reasons one would assume. She should have been angry about her plan backfiring but suddenly, one tiny detail seemed more important: " _Red_ suspenders — always red!" she bemoaned with a knock of her palm against her forehead. She made a mental note to remember next time…

* * *

 _ **MEANWHILE...**_

The bell chimes on the entrance of Tiffany and Co. jingled as Stefan shouldered his way out of the jewelry store and onto the sidewalk of the outlet strip. Tugging his Versace shades down his nose, he paused to take a pensive glance at the small velvet box he clutched in one hand, stuffing a freshly printed receipt into his pants pocket with the other. Despite his satisfied smile, he couldn't help but tingle with ambivalence as he tucked the box safely into the inner lining his suit jacket, slightly intimidated by his ambitious endeavors… but invigorated at the same time. After many taxing trips across the Atlantic, he'd finally saved up enough to begin to set his plan in motion — a plan he'd secretly had in the works ever since he came back from Paris last year. Actually, it'd been the plan ever since he first laid eyes on Laura…

There was much more to his strategy than just getting on one knee again; he was in active pursuit of securing their future together. He'd been in talks with big-wig international agencies that were just drooling to sign him to huge campaigns, which would mean that they would practically be set for life if he maneuvered correctly — he had neglected to tell her any of this with the intention of surprising her.

But he couldn't say he hadn't had second thoughts over the past few weeks since his girlfriend had given him many reasons to question his own sanity lately. What was even more unsettling was the fact that he was no closer to gaining any actual insight into the causes of her flightiness. While he could have guessed that she was becoming impatient with his constant need to leave, what she didn't know was that his trips to Italy had been for more than just looking pretty for a camera… in a way, it'd all been for her in the first place.

With no answers to quell his anxiety and a 3-karat diamond in his pocket, he was forced to consider that maybe he was just being paranoid… at least that's what he wanted to tell himself. Consumed by his concerns, he was brought back to the memory of their brief engagement at Disney World… and for some reason, proposing to her had felt easier to do the first time around. But his unbreakable devotion to her ultimately compelled him to move past his doubts — to him, she was worth the risk. Some might say he was jumping the gun but it was only recently that she'd given him reason to believe she'd reject him. Besides, it was getting a little too late in the game to turn back now...

Around the same time Stefan began to stroll down the sidewalk towards his parked top-down convertible, two of his biggest fans picked up on his magnetic charisma from across the street. Janelle and Dina, a couple of caramel-skinned female students from Laura's school, instantly zoned in on his position and they became hypnotized by his alluring confidence.

"Oh my God, there he is!" Janelle exclaimed with a gasp of elation, pointing eagerly as she stalked the object of her desire, clutching Dina's elbow in order to keep herself from melting through the sidewalk. "He's so gorgeous, I wanna cry..." she pined ardently, relishing every second she was blessed with a chance to gawk at him.

As for Dina, she had every intention of doing _way_ more than gawking. "'Gorgeous?' Pfft…" she scoffed, glowing from head to toe with steadfast determination, dramatically correcting Janelle's insufficient choice of words, "You mean ' _Godly_ '. And he's _all_ mine _._ " Calling dibs on him, she quickly pulled out her lipstick from her purse and quickly groomed herself with her compact mirror.

"...Hey! _Down, girl._ I saw him first!" Janelle retorted as she greedily snatched the compact from her and rushed to powder her nose as well with a sing-songy taunt, "Finders-keepers!"

"Grabbers-takers!" Dina parroted in reply as she reclaimed her mirror, quickly double-checking her lipstick with an animated pout of her full lips. Eager to catch up to him, she nearly abandoned Janelle on the sidewalk as she briskly slinked across the street before he got away. "Oh, Stefaaaan! Over here!" she called out sweetly, approaching his car with a very deliberate sway of her hips just as he was making his way to the driver's side. Janelle was close on her tail and managed to rush past her, shouldering around Dina in hopes that he noticed her first. Snoozing was losing and she was on a mission!

Stefan blinked out of his daydream as he was ambushed by the thirst patrol, pausing just as he was about to open his car door and politely lending them his attention instead …it's not like he wasn't used to all the attention — it was difficult to go anywhere these days without being bum-rushed by drooling women. Facing them, he leaned against the car door and greeted them with a warm smile, " _Bonjour_ , ladies. Is this beautiful day treating you well?"

And they were instantly beguiled as he crippled them with his charm, staring at him with schoolgirl grins so wide that their faces ached. "…Oh, you better believe it…" Janelle drawled with a dreamy sigh, destroyed by the scent of Burberry that filled her nostrils as she took a bold step towards him to affirm just how beautiful the day had gotten: "…Especially since _you_ walked by, sexy thang," she purred as she shamelessly began to undress him with her eyes.

" _Rawr_..." Dina agreed with a seductive growl and a flirtatious wink… it was harder than hell not to start marking her territory with her lipstick but she contained her hunger — she didn't want to make a _complete_ fool out of herself, even though it would have been _sooo_ worth it.

Well, that was… subtle. Stefan just quirked a brow as they ogled him, stifling a snicker of amusement. He was always flattered by the storm of compliments he got daily, but he couldn't help but find their obscene display of desperation quite humorous… especially considering that he was completely off the market and far from interested — all the ploys to get his attention could get pretty redundant after a while. "Heh. Glad I could be of service," he quipped with a wry smirk before attempting to make his escape yet again, thumbing the button on his keychain to unlock his car doors.

"Hey, wait," Janelle chirped skittishly, nearly flinging herself against his car — _and_ him — if it meant making it harder for him to flee, but she tried to calmly play off her eagerness as she leaned against the hood. Creeping closer to his side, she provocatively traced the curves of the vehicle's silver exterior with her fingertips. "Can we have a ride in your 'Vette?" she asked timidly as she cast him a sultry smirk.

"And take a bite out of you, too, at some point?" Dina appended seductively as she flanked him on the opposite side to make a Stefan sandwich out of him, wiggling her brows suggestively.

 _Blink_. Trapped between to the two ladies as they asserted their intentions on him, he suddenly felt like the prey of lionesses and he quirked a brow at them suspiciously. Uh... didn't they know he was taken? Every girl did considering how his relationship status was worthy of front-page news to most of them. He was thrown off by their aggression since knowledge of his girlfriend usually kept them tamed... for the most part.

Always a gentleman, he tried to let them down easy. "Oh, I'm sorry, ladies, no can do. I'm actually on my way to my girl's house," he explained as he carefully wiggled himself out of the sandwich, immediately filling the ladies with a sense of dejection as their ambition deflated with a disappointed pout. "Besides… contrary to popular belief, I'm not edible," he remarked smoothly with a wry smirk before politely ushering them away from the car to allow him access to it. And on that note, he felt compelled to make his exit a little quicker, opening the door and slipping into the driver's seat.

" _Awww_ , man," Dina whined pitifully, falling in step with Janelle as they dragged their knuckles, long faces, and crushed dreams away from his car. But they didn't roam too far, only making it onto the nearby sidewalk where they intended to watch him drive off into the sunset... because that was a beautiful sight too. And they didn't bother to keep their voices down as they started to gossip about him like he wasn't sitting right there, very much within earshot. "We're too late... I knew I should've worn flats today," she griped as she stared down at her black thick-heeled pumps, suspecting that she could have somehow nabbed him if she could only run faster... Stefan couldn't help but roll his eyes as he stuck his key in the ignition. _Women._

"Oh, _come on_ , girl— we should've known he'd be snatched up the second Laura dropped him…" Janelle grumbled bitterly as she shrunk with a disconcerted shrug, having little choice but to surrender to this obvious fact.

"Of course," Dina agreed as she nodded knowingly, reminded in that moment just how worthwhile the hunt would be to any girl on the planet... that must mean that Laura was brain-dead. "It's like dropping a million dollar bill. Really, who _does_ that?!"

 _...Err?_ No sooner than Stefan had shifted the gears in preparation to drive off, he was smacked dead in the face with a severe discrepancy he detected in their gossip. Pausing as his expression became marred with confusion, he calmly leaned back into his seat to consider the implications with a concerned knit of his brows... and when the puzzle pieces didn't align, he carefully nudged his way into their conversation as he slowly removed his sunglasses. "…Whoa-whoa, _time-out_ ," he interjected tightly, glaring at them skeptically. He suddenly wasn't in that big of a rush... because he was gonna need them to repeat that first. "...'The second Laura' _what?_ "

Detecting vexation in his tone, Dina regarded him with a dose of her own confusion. "Didn't she break up with you because she likes some other guy now?" she asked, posing the question as if it were common knowledge. After hearing it from five different people — and not to mention the marketing broadcast all over campus — it seemed like a credible theory... especially to those who neglected to do their fact-checking.

" _Pffft,"_ Janelle scoffed in reply, simply flabbergasted by the thought that anyone would be stupid enough to let Stefan Urquelle get away. Lamenting this fact, she just shook her head ruefully, "That girl has mud for brains."

"I know! Let _him_ go?! And she claims to be so smart," Dina retorted over her shoulder, sharing a giggle with her partner-in-crime.

...Stefan's gut dropped right through the floor mats of the car as he stared at them vacantly... this was a joke, right? It was difficult to convince himself of that; they seemed pretty sure of themselves. But in that instant, he recognized how ridiculous it was to feed into a blatant lie — he'd never been the type to pay attention to hearsay and petty gossip... besides, he'd just talked to Laura a few hours ago; why he was he even letting these silly little girls get to him?

Calming the anxiety that began to gnaw at his soul, he cleared his throat and flashed them a relaxed smile, attempting to mask his uneasiness, "Uh, ladies…the last time I checked, Laura and I were still together." Key words: _the last time he checked._ For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he was having a hard time believing what he thought was true... probably because the girls insisted on the contrary, which didn't help his burgeoning irritation.

"Ugh... false alarm," Janelle grumbled after he corrected their misconception, even more disenchanted by the fact that Laura wasn't as dumb as she originally thought.

"Are you sure?" Dina probed him with a dubious quirk of her brow and a hopeful smirk... it became clear to Stefan that they seemed to have some sort of foundation for such an outrageous assumption... and that just didn't sit well with him.

"…I'm positive!" he affirmed impatiently, his smile vanishing as his cool demeanor threatened to dissolve. Becoming inquisitive as his intuition nagged him for answers, his eyes narrowed as his pointed gaze shifted suspiciously between them. "Who told you that?"

And that's when Janelle could tell that he was offended and she timidly shrunk under his scrutiny — the last thing she wanted was to be on his bad side. He may not be single now but that didn't mean the opportunity would never present itself! She was already plotting the take-over. "We thought everybody knew…" she said meekly with a cavalier shrug.

Funny how everyone else could know when this was his first time hearing it. Good Lord, had he been _that_ out of the loop while he was away? As his suspicions began to thread through the hints Laura had been dropping lately, he became nauseous as the heaviness in his stomach began to twist into knots and he considered that maybe... just maybe he wasn't paranoid after all. "… _Really_ now?"

Becoming quite uncomfortable with the tense silence that lingered as they were pierced by his resentful gaze, Dina feared they might burst into flames. Suddenly, she was the one in a rush. "Oh, darn, would ya just look at the time? We gotta go, Stefan!" she spouted in a hurry, grinning at him innocently as she forcibly gripped Janelle by the arm and dragged her stage-left and out of the line of fire.

"Wait, but…hey!" Stefan called out irritably as they made a hasty retreat, completely unsatisfied and disoriented by the unsettling mystery that they'd haphazardly dropped in his lap. He watched as they slinked out of view to leave him to stew in his confusion, deflating against his seat as all traces of his denial shattered. And he found himself lost in a daze as he reflected on the implications of such an outlandish rumor... he was left breathless by the possibility that maybe it wasn't just a rumor... his hand gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles lost color.

"Oh, by the way, hot stuff..."

Stefan flinched out of his bewildered stupor as a sultry voice lilted into his ear, shuddering in surprise as the heat of breath grazed the skin of his neck — Janelle reappeared seemingly out of nowhere, leaning over the window of the driver's side to whisper seductively to him. "If she ever _does_ kick you to the curb... here's my number." She deposited a folded sheet of paper into his lap before he could protest. "Remember: you're only a dial away from being the butter on my biscuit." Unable to contain herself, she quickly stole a kiss from his cheek before skittering away with a triumphant giggle.

... _Sigh_. Stefan sank into the driver's seat with a restless groan. The thirst had been amusing before but now it was just plain disgusting after all the bombs they just dropped on him. Rolling his eyes as he wiped the lipstick marks from his cheek, he peered at the paper on his lap and saw her phone number had been written on it in the same color lipstick.

Scoffing, he was initially inclined to toss it... until he noticed the fine print at the bottom of the folded page. 'Lewd conduct suit'? Sounded... scandalous. He assumed that it must've been a flyer before Janelle turned it into her calling card. Out of curiosity, he peeled open the page to peruse it... only to get another shocker his pounding heart hadn't been prepared for... was that Laura's face? ...Tequila bottles... and _pinatas?!_ Upon spotting the Delta insignia, he immediately knew what 'Pinata' was implying... _GULP_.

Feeling his nausea leap into his throat, he could only stomach about ten seconds of gazing before the sheet was ripped to tiny shreds. He was quite composed on the outside and so no one passing by would have ever guessed that he was tremoring with rage on the inside... gnawing the hell out of the flesh of his inner cheek, he angrily shifted into drive and sped out of the parking space with a furious screech of his tires, the shreds of paper floating through the air like confetti as he tossed the incriminating evidence over his shoulder.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 19..._


	19. The Wicked Switch

_**Chapter 19: The Wicked Switch**_

 _Summary: In an act of desperation, Stefan is forced to pull a stunt of his own in order to find out the truth about Laura's behavior._

* * *

 _ **FOUR DAYS LATER…**_

Stefan couldn't remember the last time he felt so… ill. His nerves were frayed, he was sweating bullets, and the dull ache of nausea in his gut persisted …especially now that the _very_ expensive engagement ring he just spent his savings on was in danger of being severely tarnished. He felt his dreams of a happily ever after beginning to go up in a blaze of futility. That thought alone made him want to walk around armed with a bottle of Pepto Bismol.

What was even more unsettling was that he wasn't sure whether or not his anxiety was even justified considering that the bombs dropped on him didn't necessarily come from reliable sources. He was well aware that there were women who would stoop to depressing new lows just to gain his favor but when strange girls _continued_ to hand him their numbers under the pretense that he was as free as a bird, it became hard to brush off Janelle and Dina's stunt as an 'isolated incident'.

Over the course of the next few days, he'd kept his distance from Laura in order to process his raging emotions, using his 'stomach ache' as the excuse for standing her up. By the time he was ready to leap off of this formidable bridge, he was still pretty peeved but he preferred to confront her when she least expected it — it seemed like his only option since he had a nagging feeling that she would just lie to his face again.

After seething in outrage for quite a while, he finally managed to reclaim his signature coolness, if only for the sake of keeping his dwindling patience undetectable as he rang the Winslows' doorbell. He felt a doozy of a conversation on the horizon but even if the rumors weren't true, _something_ was going on because he was legally sane the last time he checked.

Soon enough, the door was pulled open and he momentarily stiffened in anticipation… only to deflate with relief at the fact that Laura wasn't the one who answered the door. He had no idea what he was going to say to her yet but every second stalled was a second more that he could gather what was left of his composure.

"Hey, Steve," he greeted his nerdy counterpart with an up-nod as he took a step through the door, pausing to quirk a brow at him… yeah, he was just going to ignore the incredibly flamboyant red and yellow polka outfit Steve showed up at the door in. He had more important things to worry about.

"Oh, Stefan! My man," Steve replied brightly as he held the door open, offering a warm smile to his cool clone. He had to wonder where the guy had disappeared to — he hadn't seen him in a while. Secretly, he'd been hoping he stayed a ghost but since Laura insisted on keeping her relationship with Stefan sacred, he had no choice but to respect her wishes. And apparently, that meant pretending that he didn't know how she felt about him.

Cutting to the chase, Stefan leaned across the threshold to survey the living room. "Is Laura around?" he asked when he saw no sign of her.

"No. She and Max went down to the mall. They're having a two-for-one bikini wax special," Steve informed him casually. "Care to give her a message?" he asked once he spotted a look of disappointment briefly flash across his features.

Nibbling on his bottom lip pensively, Stefan considered just how irate that message would be… only to conclude that the best way to deal with this was through a blind-side tactic and since Steve was far from subtle, he decided against it. "…I'll catch up with her later. Thanks," he said and turned to make his way back outside… only to pause as he was hit by a sudden spark of inspiration.

He was well aware of Steve and Laura's long history as friends and besides that, they lived together. Who better to ask about Laura's behavior than him? If nothing else, maybe he could fish out a missing puzzle piece or two since the nerd may have been the only one who could offer some honest insight in this entire situation. "…Steve. You got a minute?" he asked with an inquisitive knit in his brow.

"Sure. Come on in. I was just about to wipe my bellows," Steve replied passively, unsuspecting of the pressure Stefan was about to unload on him.

...His _what?_ Stefan's brows furrowed in confusion at his response, only to connect the dots once he spotted Steve's clunky instrument on the couch. "…Oh. You're accordion." _Thank God._ Taking the invitation, he made his way through the door and crossed the living room to take a seat on the couch. Shutting the door, Steve followed suit and sat down next to him, regarding him with curious anticipation, always eager to offer his assistance.

There was no telling how much time he had before Laura got back and so he plowed right through the bush and pinpointed the ultimate riddle, "Steve... don't you think Laura has been acting a little strange lately?" he asked timidly as he leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees, not sure if he was more hopeful to hear an affirmation or a rebuttal. He had a feeling either answer would do little to subdue his anxiety.

… _Uh oh._ Steve knew what this was about the moment he detected the ambiguity in that question, swallowing a lump in his throat as he became unnerved with the idea of lying to him since he was so bad at it. "…No? Why?" was his aloof reply, trying to remain discreet since he knew that was what Laura would want.

"She's seems a little distant... _distracted_..." Stefan elaborated, his uneasiness surging through his entire body as he fidgeted restlessly.

"In what way?" Steve asked cautiously, trying to mold a potential fib around the bigger picture.

Hm… how could he put this without giving too much away? Stefan didn't want to drop any hints about what he was already privy to since it might influence dishonesty. And he could use a little unbridled truth for once, at whatever ugly cost. His heart, _and_ his finances, depended on it at this point. "Well, for one thing, when we kiss... not as much passion as there used to be," he admitted, disheartened by the reality that he found himself missing the times she'd cling to him like a white on rice. She was rarely within arm's length these days.

"Really?!" Steve impulsively chirped with delight, struck with hope by the implication that Laura's confusion wasn't just a phase after all. But before Stefan could catch wind of his excitement, he quickly humbled himself and feigned sympathy, "Oh … _really?_ "

"Well, yeah," Stefan said with a dispirited shrug, again delving into the meat of the mystery, "Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

Becoming flustered as he was put on the spot for a satisfactory response, Steve couldn't help but try to correct his anxiety by standing to pace around the coffee table... or rather, to escape Stefan's interrogation altogether. "...H-H-How would _I_ know ...w-what's going on with Laura?" he stammered nervously as he inched away from Stefan as if he'd randomly started to irradiate.

"C'mon, Steve, you've grown up with Laura. You've known her so much longer than I have," Stefan appealed, automatically detecting Steve's resistance and dialing up the pressure as he stood to follow him.

Confronted by Stefan's persistence, Steve reached an impasse as he stiffened indecisively... only to sigh in defeat when he realized the beast of the truth was probably too colossal to contain at this point. "...Oh, you're gonna find out sooner or later so I might as well tell you," he conceded dolefully.

The rumors about Laura were like a silent echo on campus and even though he managed to find and shred every smear flyer he could find, he knew it was only a matter of time before word of mouth would deliver Stefan a few rude awakenings. More than that, he remembered the look in her eyes when she confessed her feelings for him — they were bound to start seeping out of her pores sooner or later anyway.

…That's when a flicker of faith pulsed through Steve as he considered how his luck could change as a result. Secretly, he became propelled by a wicked impulse to throw a wrench in the cogs of Laura's denial. Perhaps she just needed a little… _nudge_. "There's someone else in Laura's life…" he admitted, wistfully compassionate towards his plight… but not really.

Stefan felt every organ in his body clench with ire as Steve confirmed what he'd suspected all along, desperately resisting the infuriating reality that Laura was, in fact… a liar. But he clung to his composure with every ounce of swag he had left, calmly polling for the ultimate piece of missing information: "...Who?"

"Me," Steve replied with succinct candor as his remorseful gaze swiveled to his counterpart... but by the hopeful glimmer of his eye, he was only sorry about the fact that Laura wasn't the one ruining his day right now.

Well, that was just plain unbelievable… to the point where Stefan couldn't help but be tickled with amusement. And he needed that laugh — in his mind, there was not a chance in hell _that_ was even close to being true. "Heh-heh-heh... that's a good one, Steve. That's a good one..." he humored him with a light-hearted chuckle.

"I'm not joking, it's _me!_ " Steve repeated firmly when he saw the gravity of the situation wasn't pulling.

And that's when Stefan realized that Steve wasn't blinking. Or smiling… or snorting. Not even that clownish outfit was enough to dull the austerity ...and he plummeted right back to earth in alarm. Becoming quite disturbed with the notion that Laura might need to have herself committed, his amusement abruptly fell flat as he skeptically probed for clarity, "…And what brought you to this _bizarre_ conclusion?"

Well, since the expectation to be taken seriously was a bust, Steve supposed he would just have to insist a little harder... and so his venture of indiscretion quickly flew right out of the window as he shamelessly — or perhaps, _proudly_ — hung the truth out to dry. "She _kissed_ me!"

And just when Stefan didn't think it was possible to sink even further into the throes of denial, he found himself instinctively rejecting the possibility like a third kidney... because some things just _weren't_ possible... right? "Oh, no doubt, it was just an innocent little peck on the cheek..." he suggested incisively... he could only hope Steve was just very bad at discerning Laura's intentions — his crush on her was infamously ambitious after all.

But much to his chagrin, Steve wasn't back-peddling. "No! It was a _biiiig slooooppy wet_ one, right here on the _lip-a-rooni!_ " he cried earnestly with a demonstrating point to his puckered lips for good measure.

...Well, Stefan didn't see _that_ coming. Let herself become the frat-girl sensation on campus? Maybe. Get filthy drunk and have the thirst patrol think he was single? Apparently. But ditch him for... _Steve Urkel?_ "…No way."

"Oh, _yes_ way! I just wish there was some way I could prove it to you." Because it was just Steve's luck that he never had an eye-witnesses around during the most mind-bending moments of his life. Perhaps there would never be a way to truly get to the bottom of this since no one ever believed him.

 _...Or was there?_ With this jarring insight now igniting Stefan's nerves to the point of dissolving his ability to remain rational, his patience instantly dispersed like shredded feathers… off a duck's back. Besides, he was Stefan Urquelle — he even made desperation look smoother than silk. "Yeah, well, maybe there is..." he mused thoughtfully. Becoming tunnel-visioned on a mission to gut the truth for all it was worth, he zeroed in on Steve with a daring twinkle in his eye and brazenly revealed the scheme that came to mind, "Tonight I'm gonna pay Laura a _little visit_. But I'm gonna do it as Steve Urkel." Besides, there seemed to be only one way to know for sure whether or not he was in love with a con-artist... by pulling a few tricks of his own.

"Ohh! _Get out!"_ Steve recoiled with a shocked gasp, stunned by Stefan's uncharacteristically ballsy suggestion to secretly put Laura on the spot... but he had to admit, as reckless as the idea sounded, it was also... enticing. If nothing else, there was a chance that they would both learn the extent of her feelings... _and_ her lies. So he ignored his first impulse to reject the plot in good conscience... but temptation and curiosity seemed to overrule all moral debate and he quirked a brow at Stefan speculatively. "But what if you find out Laura prefers _me_ to you?" _That_ was the enticing part.

"Yeah, well, I'll just cross that bridge when I get to it," Stefan replied apathetically, suddenly becoming numb to his itches of irritability as he stubbornly set his mind on finishing what Laura started... if only he didn't have to work tonight. When this obstructive detail occurred to him, he balked pensively. "Darn, I have an important photo-shoot tonight..."

Well, the solution to that puzzle wasn't too far out of sight. Steve just wiggled his brows at him mischievously. "Hmm. Well if you can be me, then _I ..._ can be _you_."

Stefan took that bet without hesitation, smirking with impish satisfaction at the notion that his suspicions would be addressed once and for all. "Deal. Tonight, we're trading places..." And with a high-five between the clones, the impending mania was sealed, stamped, and delivered... All Stefan had to do was hope Steve didn't cost him his job — that was _all_ he needed right now.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING...**_

Despite admitting to Max once again that her feelings for Steve had gotten even stronger, Laura hoped to find redemption by actively resisting them and instead focusing her intentions on restoring intimacy with Stefan ...which seemed so unbreakable once upon a time. To her dismay, not only had her boyfriend stood her up on a date, he didn't answer the phone when she tried to call him over the last few days.

Since she was still clueless to the extent of the hailstorm of drama brewing right over her head, she chalked up the sudden radio silence to his busy schedule. It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to get preoccupied with work but she certainly took note that he didn't inform her about it this time… or at least call her back. And she became concerned that he was beginning to carry around secrets of his own.

With Steve respectively keeping his distance, what she noticed was that the two men in her life were being pulled further and further away from her — to the point where they were beginning to feel like strangers. And all of the deprivation only had her secretly longing for them both... if she thought she was stuck between a rock and a hard place before, she suddenly felt like she was being ripped apart at the waist.

At least the rumor ripple seemed to have died down... Steve's damage control tactics saw to it that she never even caught wind the flyers that had littered campus. It probably would have explained the green and yellow-eyed stares she got from time to time. Unfortunately, it appeared that she was in for other surprises by the time she returned home from class the day…

Steve was there. And at first, their interaction was nothing out of the ordinary — just an enthusiastic offer to watch a documentary about liposuction. Classic Steve shenanigans. But the moment she sat next to him on the couch, she immediately sniffed a rat... and it smelled like Burberry. Observing him discreetly as he hammed up his quirky antics, all it took was watching him stroll from the couch to the kitchen for her to connect the dots of deception... Steve never walked with that much swag a day in his life — in actuality, he would have severely injured himself trying.

…And when she put two and two together, it suddenly made sense why Stefan had been avoiding her lately. She could think of no other reason for him to try to pose as Steve other than to catch her slipping… and she stiffened with animosity as a potent brew of mixed emotions had her tingling with ambivalence, at first alarmed by the idea that he finally caught on to her little secret. But for some reason, the more as she steeped in the realization that all trust between them had completely broken down, the emotion that distinctly dominated her haze of confusion was resentment.

With so many reckless assumptions already being tossed into a drama salad, it was as if all of these months of steaming frustration had finally broken the pressure gauge. Sure, her indignant reaction to 'teach him a lesson' may have been shortsighted and completely unjustified, especially since her confusion was the cause of everything… but now that it was clear that all of them had very little pride left to lose, remaining rational about his attempt to trick her was next to impossible. And if he insisted on playing this deplorable game, she decided right then and there that he'd find exactly what he was looking for.

Stefan... or was it Steve? He sat on the couch flipping through the pages of Laura's textbook, beginning to sweat behind the ears at the thought of 'tutoring' her in calculus like she'd requested. In all of his four-eyed, high-waisted-pants glory, he may have been the physical embodiment of the nerd, but the masquerade ended there. "This is all Greek to me..." he murmured to himself as he skimmed the jumble of numbers on the page, searching for a loop-hole in the Steve-esque intelligence that he lacked. And quick before Laura returned from upstairs, where she had retreated to slip into something …'more comfortable'.

After several minutes, Laura reappeared and made a slinky descent down the stairs as if she'd strutted right off the cover of a Victoria's Secret magazine. Silently approaching him, she paused by the couch to plant her hands on arc of her hips as she hovered over him. "Hello there... sweet thang," was her sultry greeting, snatching his attention from the book and on the outfit she wore, the silk floral pattern of her short, purple pencil dress clinging to the curves of her lithe body like a second skin. The view gave him a startling sample of her smooth, chestnut flesh in all the right places... just, legs for days...

 _Whoa, nelly..._ For a split second, Stefan almost broke character, caught completely off guard by the accentuating …garment. Despite enduring days of restless anxiety, all of his rage was suddenly in danger of becoming hopelessly lost in her beauty. But he bravely gulped down his arousal at the stunning sight of her... well, what he could make out of her anyway — Steve was as blind as a bat and wearing his glasses made him feel like he was looking at the world through a fishbowl …albeit, a very titillating fishbowl.

…That's when he was reminded that she didn't get 'comfortable' for _him._ He became secretly devastated by the idea that his nerdy counterpart was the one that all flawless skin was intended for — it became obvious that his mission to be proven wrong was off to a pretty grim start already. But he'd been practicing his Steve impression all day and made extra special care to filter his reactions accordingly. "...Wowser! Going out?" he asked, mimicking Steve's nasally falsetto, become tense in more muscles than one as all of that sensuality closed in on him.

"Staying in. Y'know..." she mused wistfully as she closed the gap between them, teasingly brushing her hip along the length of his arm as she sank into the couch next to him, the utter invasion of his right side sending a chill up his spine. "I just realized something."

"...That that dress is illegal in three states?" he quipped in character, unsure whether to seethe or rejoice at her choice of attire... and the hypnotizing whiff he got of her flowery scent didn't help him make a decision either.

She countered his wisecrack with a playful swat at his arm before gently grazing the backside of his hand with her fingertips. " _No_. That we're all alone in the house and we should make the most of it," she offered suggestively ...and she made sure to coat her tongue with nectar as she regarded him with a stare that could sprout blossoms.

...Stefan felt himself being pulled apart at the seams. Because he knew that come-hither look ...he _thought_ those bedroom eyes were reserved for him. "But what about _Stefan?_ " he asked sheepishly, petitioning the main objective of this entire scheme as he desperately tried to keep his performance from wavering.

As for Laura, she was secretly seething as well as he put on a convincing show ...he better be prepared to take a bow because she had to admit, his impression was pretty spot on. Even though him and Steve were as different as night and day, it became apparent that swapping their wardrobe was all it took for a stranger to be unable to tell them apart... granted that neither one of them actually opened their mouths. She would bet money that Steve was off somewhere ruining Stefan's career right now.

But that's what infuriated her. She wasn't just a stranger to either one of them and even if her actions hadn't shown it, she regarded them both highly... and yet, _they_ must've thought she was as dumb as a box of rocks to fall for something like this. What turned her gut sour was the realization that even if she did fall for it, she knew kissing him was all it took to _really_ know the difference... out of pure spite, that notion only motivated her to turn up the dials on her own conniving performance.

" _Who?_ " she chirped with perplexity and immediately proceeded to prey on his vulnerability, molding herself against him as her sultry touch traveled up his arms to his shoulders with every intention on holding him hostage to her feigned hunger.

" _Stefan_ ," he echoed his own name emphatically, leaning away from her as he rejected the horrifying revelation that she was actually willing to cross certain boundaries with _Steve Urkel_. Not to mention, forget his damn name again in the process... his pride was officially ground to dust at this point. Managing to slither out of her arms like a spineless worm as he scrambled to his feet, he tentatively put emphasis on what should have been obvious: "Your _beau_ , your _boyfriend_ , uh ... _the love of your life_."

But it wasn't an easy task to repel her. He suddenly found himself back-peddling as she rose from the couch to stalk after him like a hungry feline... and she walked like one too, momentarily distracting him with the immodest sway of her hips. "Forget Stefan," she insisted nonchalantly, swatting a hand dismissively as she made her wicked intentions crystal clear, "It's _you_ I want, Steve..."

When Stefan saw all the emphasis in the world wasn't enough to keep her hormones tamed, his act started to unravel as she overwhelmed him with her aggression. Unable to back up any further, he nervously crashed right into the keys of the piano by the wall, a thundering clash of chords ringing out loudly... only to become even more unnerved by the fact that there was no escape as she invaded his proximity yet again.

"And it's _you_ I'm gonna get," she contended sweetly as her index finger nimbly teased a line of desire along his sternum. " _Heeey_ , you're butt's playing our song," she bantered with a charming grin, threading her devious needle through every maneuver that could think of that would make him crack.

As irritated as he was with her, one thing remained certain — she was still incredibly irresistible. Especially looking _like that._ Even though he wanted to chew his own tongue off in anger at her behavior, he couldn't help but pine at the fact that his two-timing, back-stabbing girlfriend was ...friggin' hot.

With her suddenly all over him, he was finally sampling the intimacy he'd craved from her and he found himself teetering on an emotional see-saw of disgust and desire. But as hard as it became to keep his composure from shattering, he was a trooper and he refused to back down first.

Besides, his curiosity over how far she would go seemed to overrule the burning resentment that began to barbecue his veins. "B-But wait, Laura, uh ...Stefan's a great guy and ... are-are sure you wanna ...you wanna cheat on him?" he stuttered reluctantly, praying with every fiber of his soul that she would retreat in shame and prove him wrong.

But to his horror, she was milking both of their performances with brass determination, deliberately cranking up her airs of apathy towards 'Stefan' as if she didn't know he was standing right in front of her. Did he think she wouldn't _go there?_ "Hmph..." Before he knew it, she pillaged the line and went in for the kill.

Pressing herself against him as she forcibly grabbed his jaw with both hands, she boldly took his lips hostage with her own in a kiss that rumbled the ground beneath him... and as she expected, she knew immediately that it was indeed Stefan on the other end of her affection, trying to foolishly pull the wool over her eyes.

...What was so unfair to Stefan about that moment was that she was making him want her more than ever. He was at a disadvantage considering it had been a while since he'd seen her, let alone kissed her... or even touched her. And she certainly knew how to push his buttons.

So it took all of his mental fortitude not to melt right through the piano the longer her lips touched his and by the time they came up for air, he felt like he'd run an emotional marathon. Staying true to his disguise, he tried his best to recover from his shock, filtering his bewilderment through an imitation of Steve's high-pitched voice, "...You act like you're sure!"

"How did that feel?" she asked tenderly as she watched the struggle of confusion brand his expression. To her surprise, kissing him really did fill her with a sense of satisfaction — she had to admit, she became a little weak in the knees herself… but only briefly once it became clear that he insisted on cultivating this deception.

"Great!" he chirped in reply with feigned delight…which wasn't necessarily a lie. The disappointment came with the fact that he wished she didn't taste so delicious — had Steve _really_ been here, he would have been in for a hell of a treat. And that just wasn't cool. He was already grumbling bitterly under his breath by the time she retreated to give him room to breathe…

Despite longing for their familiar connection, Laura became disenchanted by the fact that he still wouldn't back down from this ridiculous game. How was not it obvious by now that she was just playing with his head? "Then you'll _love_ this," she purred with a wink before suggestively stepping towards the couch to retrieve her surprise... only to spin abruptly to take an annoyed swat at him with a cushion she choose as a weapon, her charade flat-lining as she began to seethe in anger instead.

"Oof!" Startled by the unexpected cushion to the face, Stefan recoiled in surprise and was nearly smacked out of character. Blinking rapidly, he tried to quickly recover from the emotional turbulence that clashed with his ability to think straight. He watched with perplexity as she tossed the cushion aside and began to pace through her irritation. "What'd you do that for?!" he griped in Steve's voice as he managed to push himself off the piano, quite graceful in his attempt to ride out the masquerade.

"Cut the act, Stefan!" she snapped angrily at him as she pivoted to confront his well-played ruse head-on.

 _Blink_ … He stopped dead in his tracks and his face reddened when he realized that she was onto him… which must've meant that what just went down was the grandest illusion since David Copperfield walked through the Wall of China.

At first, that thought brought on a sense of relief more refreshing than a douse of ice water…. and yet, he was still compelled to exploit his act to the very end, possibly due to the embarrassment that came with being caught red-handed. "Oh, 'S-Stefan'?! Oh, no, I'm clumsy, annoying Steve...!" he insisted earnestly as he tentatively embodied Steve's mannerisms with all the acting chops he had left. But he felt like melting under the heat of her furious glare as her jaw tightened and her arms crossed irritably, leaving him with no other option but to abort the mission.

"…I'm busted," he murmured in surrender, the suave bass of his real voice returning as all traces of Steve resigned from his body language. Removing the glasses, he was relieved that his 20/20 vision sharpened the distortion of the world around him… unfortunately for his dwindling pride, it also meant that she got even hotter now that he could see her clearly.

Laura had finally reached her limit. This entire back-handed scheme only reaffirmed to her that the trust and intimacy between them wasn't just gone, it was a distant memory. And now all the endless months of confusion were crumbling down on her, leaving her more disoriented than she'd ever felt in her life. It was time to nip all of this insanity in the bud once and for all. "What did you think you were doing?!"

Wasn't it obvious? She'd practically helped him carry out his plot but there was no point in running from his accountability, so he earnestly spelled it out for her. "…I had to know if you have feelings for Steve!" _Among other things,_ but he could only tackle one accusation at a time…

...Yeah, she figured as much. But before she could allow speculation to cancel out her irritation, she tossed the steaming heap of blame back in his direction, "…Well, then why didn't you just _ask_ me instead of being someone you're not?" But enraptured by her bitterness, she failed to see in that moment just how responsible she was for the reactions of everyone around her up to this point… maybe because she didn't want to see it since karma was always a tough cracker to choke on.

"B-Because! I'm-I'm... stupid," Stefan stammered, completely frazzled by the realization that asking probably _would_ have been easier than putting himself through that exhausting battle of wits just now… and he certainly _felt_ like a dimwit for lying to himself and ignoring his intuition all this time. That's when he remembered that the last time he tried to be straight up with her, she skipped around the issue like he was the crazy one. She even laughed in his face if he could remember correctly. But before he could point out this reminder, he was interjected by her fuming disappointment.

"Of all the underhanded, deceitful, sneaky things to do," she seethed, becoming livid at the thought that he resorted to betrayal to get his point across…. as if that hadn't been her tactic this entire time. But in the heat of the moment, she deflected as per usual, rashly targeting his character as the culprit of the confusion. "I mean, what kind of person would stoop so low?"

…And that's when Stefan's hut of shame was abruptly torn down by the stones she threw, regarding her with a dubious quirk of his brow …did she really want him to answer that? Because he suddenly felt a mouthful of a comeback welling up in his throat, along with weeks of his own frustration starting to rip apart his composure from the inside out.

But before he could delve into the very long list of her recent indiscretions, Steve made his entrance through the front door dressed in Stefan's Sunday best, perking self-consciously when he spotted them in a stand off in the living room.

As far as he could tell, the plan went off without a hitch — probably way better than the epic fail of a photoshoot he'd barely survived. And so he approached them with the swag of a cripple as he awkwardly attempted to embody Stefan's coolness... and it was hardly convincing since he walked like his ankles were broken.

Not to mention that lowering his voice amounted to croaking instead of crooning. Nice effort, though… at least he looked nice. Stefan just rolled his eyes irritably as their exposure as frauds became self-evident.

"Laura, Laura, Laura, _yeeees_. Woman of my _dreeeams_ , the woman I _looove_ —"

"Shut up, Steve," Laura silenced him abruptly as she redirected her glare in his direction. Just as she'd suspected, he was in on this sham and now she knew how Stefan found out about her feelings for him… talk about a double whammy. Was trust even a thing around here anymore?

It was Steve's turn to play dumb as his performance was cut short but like Stefan, he tried to pick up the slack by drawing out the charade, "Uh-uh, I'm not Steve, I'm _Stefaaaaan_."

" _She knows_..." Stefan gritted through his teeth, slowly walking away from Laura in order to put some distance between them before she could gather the nerve to slam him with more lopsided attacks.

"Oh..." Well, that settles that! Steve figured that he might as well not even bother asking how it went — especially not after spotting the acrimony on Laura's eyes as her gaze drilled a hole through his head ...almost choking on the tension in the air, he just pointed to the door indicatively. "I'll just be going now."

"Hold it right there," Laura said firmly, halting them both in their tracks before they could make an escape. And as they turned to face her, standing shoulder to shoulder, the intensity of her feelings for both of them became a little too ...surreal.

It certainly didn't help that they had literally trades places because now, she couldn't tell who she adored the most. Her confusion became so poignant that it aggravated her to the core. She didn't know what bothered her more: the fact that they'd tried to deceive her or the fact that she now knew why it was so hard to deceive herself... she went with the first one. "I cannot believe that the both of you tried to trick me!"

The crazy thing was, as angry as Stefan wanted to be with her in that moment, he became much more aware of how he'd hurt her. She had that effect on him — one moment he was ready to punch a wall and the next, all he wanted to do was hold her until she was smiling again. With Steve standing right next to him, it seemed only fair to reiterate exactly why he'd 'stooped so low' to begin with. "Laura, I'm sorry, but I had to know if you had feelings for Steve."

Steve shared the same sentiment. Only he was hoping she would see the situation from a bird's eyes view. That is, a bird of prey who would target Stefan as the rat. He shot him an accusing point as he tried to appeal with his own reasons for participating, "Hey, I told him you were hot for me but he didn't believe it!"

...Yeah, because _that_ made the fact that he said anything at all excusable. First, he read her mind to uncover the secret and now he was trying to play puppet-master. Laura was just so done right now.

"Y'know what? I'm not feeling very good about either one of you," she lamented somberly, ultimately submitting to the fear that had been tugging at her conscience all this time. Turning on her heel, she began to drag herself towards the kitchen under a heavy cloud of dejection.

"Laura, _c'mon_..." Stefan pleaded, destroyed by the thought that she had really come to _that_ conclusion. Of _all_ the conclusions she could come to. It was like a punch to the gut to know for sure that his vision of their future was even blurrier than when he first found out about this whole thing. What a great week this turned out to be.

Laura had been dreading the moment she had to look them both in the eye and tell them the truth for months. Now that the moment had arrived, she didn't even have the strength to face her own reflection, let alone the two men who made her gut quiver something fierce. So she kept it succinct, ripping the veil off of her hypocrisy like an old band-aid.

"It's true. I do have feelings for both of you," she finally admitted as she paused by the kitchen door to face them, ruefully making her current stance on the issue as plain as day, "And I was trying to work them out. But now, after _this_ , I'm more confused than ever." ...As evidenced by the nagging headache that started to pulse against her temples yet again. Sighing heavily, she turned to make her exit before they could appeal. Frankly, she didn't want to hear it right now.

...And there they were. Two love-sick fools silenced by the aftermath of an emotional massacre as they watched their girl abandon them with the residuals of her confusion. They exchanged a disheartened look of mutual defeat ...for about half a second before their fragile egos gave task to juggling the blame.

"Nice going," Stefan grumbled at Steve as he took a few meditative steps towards the door. He had half the mind to walk right out of it and never look back, but he paused before he could talk himself into leaving... because the other half of his mind was eager to confront what had yet to be addressed.

"It was _your_ idea," Steve fussed, refusing to take the brunt of the blame. As far as he was concerned, Stefan might as well have wrung him out like a wet towel for a reason to pull this stunt... but he knew he was just as responsible — he _was_ wearing the man's shoes. _And_ his eight-hundred-dollar suit...

"Yeah, well, _you_ went along with it," Stefan grouched in retort... he knew he was full of it and he was more mad at himself than anything right now. But subconsciously, now that he knew Steve had a chance with _his_ woman, everything from this point on would be the nerd's fault. _Everything_.

"Yeah, but if you wouldn't have thought of it, I wouldn't have gone along with it!" Steve rebutted with circular logic, but only because it made him feel better to believe that his weakness for Laura had acted out for him this time. But he knew better.

"…You're not too smooth yourself. You probably got me fired from my job — you got me fired didn't you?" Stefan grumbled with reproach since he knew Steve trying to pose on a horse must've been a sight to see.

How dare he assume that? Giving his mouth an embittered twist, Steve reassured him begrudgingly, "Oh, you've still got you're job, you're just not getting paid." And he'd better prepare himself for the strange looks he was bound to get when he returned to work. But it wasn't his fault that the darn horse escaped the studio with him on it! ... _And_ the other model.

 _Eh..._ Stefan didn't care that much. What would it matter anyway if he couldn't share his success with his lady? He just shrugged dismissively as the gears in his head started to turn, his gaze wandering in search of a solution to this romantic riddle. Planting his hands on his hips, he became entrenched in deep thought and could only find one path to salvation. "Steve ...I need another favor."

"Ohhh, _noooo siree!"_ Steve rejected intently — shame on him if he tripped into the same quagmire of foolishness twice. "You're not gonna drag race me under the motor home again, mister!"

"...You mean 'throw under the bus'?" Stefan corrected him with a puzzled knit in his brow.

"Meh. Same difference," Steve replied dryly, giving him an animated shrug.

"It'll be simple." Stefan huffed a heavy sigh as his next move became clear and he regarded his counterpart solemnly as he imparted his request, "Could you give Laura and I few hours alone? I really need to talk to her about this." ...Not that he needed his blessing. Because if he didn't leave, then the next step would be to remove him. But he figured he'd give the guy a chance since he did help him unwrap this burrito of a problem.

"...Oh." Well, that was a fair request... much to Steve's dismay. He realized in that moment that even though Laura's feelings were finally out in the open, it seemed as if they were just left hanging out to dry. She had technically been Stefan's girl this whole time — he knew the guy had every right to try to save their relationship. And he couldn't blame him because he would've done the same thing.

In fact he wasn't even that mad at his perpetual bad luck as the runner-up — it seemed only natural that he was to walk out of this situation empty-handed... again and again until Laura could finally find the courage to see him as the one for her. In the meantime, he knew she'd have to come to that decision on her own. Who knew? Maybe Stefan would just make it worse and force her into that position quicker than he ever could. It was worth hoping for, at least. "Sure. No problemo. I'll just change out of these clothes and be on my way." And with that, he respectfully excused himself as he made his way towards the stairs to do just that.

 _Smart man._ Stefan watched him retreat pensively and found himself slightly crept out by the sight of the most ungraceful man on the planet trying to pull off his Armani suit. It was like looking in a distorted mirror... and it kinda made sense why it would be even _possible_ for Laura to fall for him. _Kind of._

But before he could get too lost in speculation over the complex nature of Laura's feelings, Steve pulled him out of his daydream as he paused on the stairs to regard him contritely. "Hey. If it's any consolation ...whenever I dreamed about finally getting her attention, it didn't _quite_ go like this in my sleepwalks," he said with a rueful shrug, hopeful that he could assuage the tension with the hard-cold fact that he never initiated this to begin with... in his own way, of course. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to be the object of raging jealousy.

Lucky for him, Stefan's mind was too preoccupied to deal with the grudge he'd began to develop against Steve the moment he learned about him and Laura. He had bigger fish to fry at the moment and until it was cooked through, he didn't have the energy to feed into envy.. and why should he? A part of him still couldn't find a real reason to believe it to begin with. "Don't sweat it, man. At least _you_ told me the truth. You're not the one I have a bone to pick with," he reassured him calmly, but don't think he didn't make it clear that a future of collecting skeletons was in store for him if he dared to interfere. Only time will tell. "... _Yet_ ," he gritted as his expression tightened in a narrow-eyed glare of warning. _Better recognize._

...And the evil eye was Steve's cue to skedaddle. Yeah-yeah, he got the point. Shrinking innocently, he just gave a parting wave before skittering away. "…Adios!" he chirped nervously before disappearing upstairs, leaving his cool counterpart isolated with nothing but pensive silence and a hefty decision to make.

 _Le sigh._ Stefan was being pulled in so many different directions that he didn't know his right from his left anymore. What he did know was that he didn't want to walk out of here without some kind of resolution. And he refused to go another few days without eating or sleeping because he knew he'd be an emotional wreck if they didn't straighten this out.

Even if he did turn his back on this whole situation right now, he knew that he would have nothing to show for the many plans he'd set in motion, just waiting on the horizon to be caught in a net of paradise.. and there was no way he was going to just let those plans hang in the balance.

But he had to change first; there was no way he was going to confront her looking like ... _Steve Urkel_ — the man he realized had become his competition in the blink of an eye. The man who created him and gave him the most precious gift in the world: the ability to love Laura Winslow with every particle of his being... what a funny world.

As he pensively picked apart of the buttons of Steve's shirt, this disturbing revelation came into sharp focus... and so did his outrage as the unfortunate affairs of the last few months suddenly rushed to him like an oncoming train, threatening to run him over and splatter pieces of his heart all over the tracks. Oh yeah, this was definitely going to be _dealt with_ one way or another...

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 20_


	20. Trouble in Paradise

_**Chapter 20: Trouble in Paradise**_

 _Summary: A long overdue quarrel erupts between Stefan and Laura when he finally turns the tables on her and confronts her about her betrayal._

* * *

Laura stood against the railing of the deck on the back porch, plagued by her sullen thoughts as her gaze vacantly scanned the details of her backyard, sulking under a dark cloud of pessimism as she tried to make sense of the stew of uncertainty sickening her to the core. She desperately tried to brand herself as the clueless victim of this whole fiasco if only to suppress the infestation of guilt crawling under her skin. It was as if she opted to abandon her accountability altogether as a final plea to sanity — it was far easier to keep from screaming in frustration that way.

As for Stefan... he couldn't help but feel haunted by the stillness of the walls around him as the empty house fell eerily silent, allowing for his seething thoughts to cry out obnoxiously. Once he looked and felt like himself again, he followed her presumed path of escape through the kitchen in search of her, the marrow in his bones churning irritably with every step he took.

Pulling the back door of the house ajar, he peeked his head through it to peer out onto the deck. "…Laura?" Sure enough, his hunch of her whereabouts were confirmed as his gaze landed on the back of her head, pausing as he was briefly hypnotized by the stillness of her angelic silhouette casting shadows in the moonlight. There went the see-saw again... this girl was gonna be the death of him. Sedated as he pensively stepped outside, he calmly shut the door behind him. "There you are."

She just scoffed irritably the second he sniffed her out, giving an indignant roll of her eyes at the very thought of engaging in yet another emotional match with him. She would rather cannonball into a bed of spikes right now.

As far as she was concerned, both of them had given her enough reason to volley the blame to them anyway... if he and Steve weren't literally two sides of the same coveted coin, she probably would have never ended up in this maze of confusion in the first place. ...Yup, she totally blamed them. And her defiant silence made that very clear.

She was giving _him_ the cold shoulder? _...Oh, okay._ Stefan just nodded to himself, his jaw stiffening as he allowed that tense silence to linger if only to stall himself while he caught up with his racing thoughts… and perhaps give her a chance to see the error in her ways but it looked like a long shot. Keeping his distance initially, he silently buried his hands in his pockets — which was a tick for him whenever he tried to cage his stress.

He couldn't help but glance up at the night sky, becoming very aware of the fact that there was a full moon tonight. "No wonder..." he murmured to himself, woeful at the irony. If he was the superstitious type, he would've damned the heavens themselves for this agonizing turn of events.

"...We really need to talk," he said as he returned his stoic gaze to her, finally ripping through the silence and getting right down to brass tacks. What he couldn't figure out as he buzzed with ambivalence was if he was so wrong about her, then why had the fire in his gut gotten hotter the longer he looked at her?

Laura was tempted to rebel by ignoring him completely, but she was compelled to sneak a peek at him over her shoulder... and she immediately regretted it. She noticed he didn't bother to get any fresher than jeans and a blazer over his undershirt once he finally changed out of Steve's clothes... she was mesmerized by the fact that it was most casual she'd ever seen him. ... _Ugh_ , why was he so hot? In that moment, his undeniable sex appeal suddenly felt unfair to her.

She quickly looked away, dismissive to the pulses of desire that threatened to reel her into the hormonal trap he tended to lure her into. "Not right now, Stefan," she replied tightly, partly begrudging him and partly inflamed by the fear that she would buckle under pressure.

The more she resisted, the more Stefan began to quiver with disdain. And try as he might to manage his burgeoning resentment, he felt her betrayal chiseling away at all of the restraint he'd suffocated on these last few days, leaving him with little strength to maintain his cool demeanor as he firmly challenged her, "Oh, I think _now_ is the perfect time."

"Well, maybe I don't want to talk to you right now," Laura spat back curtly, inflexible to his demand.

"And maybe _I don't care!"_ he shouted fiercely as his hands finally fled his pockets, his voice resounding loudly in the night air as he let go of the frustration he'd been clinging to for dear life. That was the straw that finally broke the camel's back.

...And it certainly got her attention. She flinched at his outburst, caught off guard by the unnerved chill that shot up her spine. She slowly turned to gape at him in shock, almost recoiling under his fiery glare. This certainly wasn't their first argument but it was the first time he'd ever raised his voice at her... and she was definitely urged to take heed, whether she wanted to or not. "...Stefan —" she clenched in protest, only to be silenced by his outrage.

"Look, just stop!" Stefan barked before she could continue to hop-scotch around the issue, clearly reaching the outer limits of his tolerance. He was Stefan Urquelle — his suave composure was impenetrable, right? At least that was the collective assumption but right now, he begged to differ. Maybe his passion was reserved just for her... in any case, his cavalier poise abruptly shattered like broken glass.

"I've had enough of this, Laura." He began taking sedated steps in her direction, scornfully laying his frustrations out on the table. "Y'know, I don't know why _you're_ so upset! _I'm_ the one who should be furious right now."

Laura's eyes narrowed viciously as his temper sparked her own. She folded her arms, completely offended that he'd somehow found the nerve to yell at her, but she had no intentions of showing him just how intimidating it was. With it being so unlike him, it was reason enough to challenge him back. "I'm not the one who felt so insecure that they had pull a dirty stunt like this, Stefan!" she sneered back, her own bitter tone matching his volume. "Seriously, how stupid do you think I am?!"

He was almost certain she didn't want him to answer that honestly but he was quick on his feet with sarcastic jabs, letting one slip before she could barely finish her question, "Can't be any dumber than me; shall we compare notes?!"

She recoiled in offense, insulted by what he was insinuating. "…Oh, so you're calling me dumb now?!"

"If the strap heel fits!" he snapped back with piercing sarcasm, ruffled by her attempts to jive him … and it shut her up. In fact, she nearly shrank to the size of an ant as her pride was severely wounded by his witty wrath, chewing her tongue and rolling her eyes before averting them to her feet in order to avoid his searing glare... well, she _was_ wearing strappy heels.

Humbly settling into the antsy silence that followed, she shuddered with self-reproach as it became clear that she was kidding herself if she thought he was going to let her run from her culpability this time.

And the more Stefan thought about how ironic this whole travesty was, the more he began to vibrate with ire. He shook his head in revulsion as he sized her up like a criminal in a line-up, barely managing his volume as he ranted, "Y'know, I… I can't believe that you have the audacity to call me out for being deceitful when you're the one keeping secrets. The whole town seems to think you broke up with me — now _that's_ a pretty good 'stunt'!" he seethed as he got right in her face to snarl at her in disgust, "You've got _some nerve_ , Laura."

…She wasn't an idiot. She knew better than to fuss back at him — having never seen him this pissed before, the last thing she wanted to do was escalate his rage… until he gave her enough space to avoid backlash, that is! The moment he backed out of her face and pivoted to pace the porch irritably, she had a disgruntled jab of her own locked and loaded. "…First of all, when did you turn into such a jerk?"

… _Was she kidding?_! Vexed by her lopsided insult, he spun around to address the pure satire in that statement, " _I'm_ the jerk?!"

"And _secondly_ ," she interjected sharply as she raised her shields and skillfully employed her deflection tactics, "Since when do _you_ listen to rumors?! Especially ones about me?!"

"'Rumors'?" he parroted dubiously with a quirked brow. Oh, she wanted receipts? No problem! Quickly digging in his pocket for a folded sheet of paper, he closed the gap between them again to frigidly exhibit the evidence to her. "If it's just a 'rumor', then what do you call _this_?"

Oh goodie, more fresh hell. Rolling her eyes in apathy, she just snatched the paper from him to quickly peruse it with intentions rebuffing whatever it was… but the gravity of his accusation immediately sucked her determined fortitude dry.

Her jaw dropped with an astonished gasp, a hand smacking over her mouth in shock as she stared at her own face and the incredibly demeaning phrases and imagery that marketed her as… well, a whore. Courtesy of the Deltas. Naturally. Her irritation was derailed completely by a swell of utter humiliation. _"_ Oh, my God…"

It was quite alarming to suddenly make sense of the weeks of unexplained vitriol and cat-calls from her classmates. What didn't make sense was how she could have been oblivious to a scandal of this magnitude all this time. _"_ …Where did you get this?!"

"Random girls have been coming up to me all week, handing me their numbers on this! Like they know something that I don't!" And furthermore, it seemed like every time he ripped up a flyer, another one would somehow end up back in his hands. It was beginning to feel like he was the only one who wasn't in on the joke. And it wasn't a very funny one to him. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that I'm suddenly single while _you're_ being passed around like a bad cold."

…Well, that was… crass. But it wasn't like she could deny how bad it all made her look. She looked at him with pleading eyes and a flustered scowl, haunted by the fact that he actually believed it…until she remembered that she'd been giving him so many reasons to. And on top of everything, the thirst patrol's takeover of her man was in full effect. The fall-out of her recklessness was thick and she was choking on the radiation. _Smooth, Laura. Smooth._

She became desperate to disprove it, beseeching him through her seething, "Stefan… this _obviously_ isn't true! How could you believe something like this about me?! Don't you see that somebody is trying to smear me?!" ...Too bad she was too preoccupied to notice the fine print before ripping it to shreds and tossing the pieces in the recycle bin nearby like it was a bio-hazard. Hopefully, it wouldn't spawn like an alien virus or something.

"And just _why_ would they do that, Laura? What _is_ the truth?" he asked impatiently. But he was already privy to the answer. He didn't hesitate to present his suspicions before she could repel him, "…The truth is you really did get wasted at that party, didn't you?"

With a heavy sigh of defeat, her shameful gaze dropped submissively to the planks of the porch as she desperately tried to weather the dizzying onset of pure misery. She couldn't even think of a response that wouldn't end up with her reneging the lie she told him since lying more would just make things worse... so she opted not to respond at all.

Finally having a broader scope of this craziness, he probed to paint the rest of the picture. "...Is that why everyone thinks we broke up? Because you were ' _swerving_ ' for the whole campus to see?"

 _Swerved, crashed, and burned._ And her guilty silence did all the confessing for her. After giving her the benefit of the doubt for so long, Stefan refused to pull any more punches.

"And then you pin it on Max — _man_ , you're just a dropping the ball _all_ over the place, aren't you?" he seethed sarcastically, his frustrations beginning to run rabid. He had been looking for any reason to believe that Steve was lying about _what else_ she did...that venture was looking pretty dim as well. He felt his skin tingle as his rage became feverish. In other words, he was heated.

...And the disgust in his eyes was just too for Laura much to bear. These were eyes that used to regard her as the most beautiful sight to behold and the pressure she felt under his accusing stare made her want to kill herself. The heat became so intense, that the impulse to jump ship once and for all overwhelmed her. _Screw it all._ Scoffing dismissively, she forcibly and defiantly shoved her way past him, "Y'know what, I don't have to listen to this —"

But much to her surprise, he had the reflexes of a fox and before he could contain his hostile reaction to her shove, his fingers curled tightly around her forearm before she could slip away, spinning her around to face him with a rough yank. " _I'm not done talking to you, Laura!_ "

Not that she could — his grip was so tight around her arm, that she feared he would cut off circulation. "…Stefan—!" she yelped in shock at his hands-on aggression, rattled by his angry barks as he raved with every ounce of vexation he had left, skinning the fat off of the most irritating gripe of them all.

"And _by the way_ , just when were you gonna tell me about your feelings for Steve?! Why am I always the last one to know what's going on with us?!" he shouted ballistically, his notorious cool a distant memory as he was blinded by the pain her betrayal caused him. It was almost as if he'd finally purged every suppressed emotion he'd ever hidden under that thick, suave skin of his and now, all he wanted to do was shake the ever-loving crap out of her.

And Laura was ...scared. She'd never seen this side of him and she felt compelled to alarm him that despite what she did, he was inching dangerously close to crossing a line. Resisting his tugs, she tried to wring herself out of his grip. " _Let me go!_ " she cried as she yanked her arm free… which was easier than she thought it would be. As quickly as he went from zero to a hundred, she saw him float back to earth on a dazed cloud of bewilderment.

… _Whoa, what just happened there?_ His brows knitted and he blinked out of his blind rage, surprised at himself as he released her. And his gaze softened in contrition as he saw the fear in her eyes. _He_ didn't even see that one coming. Weathering all of the jealousy and fury he'd been smothered with, Stefan calmly gathered into his composure and shook off his temper, taking a few steps back from her to grant her some space.

Alas, Laura was still very much smitten by him and despite her shock, she couldn't help but swell with compassion as she saw the confusion in his expression. As much as she wanted to walk away... she found herself stuck in the spot she squirmed in. In fact, she felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to him but she couldn't do that either because she knew that she had provoked the Hulk in him to begin with. Her arms timidly hugged her waist, jarred by the unexpected explosion between them.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what that was. It won't happen again…" he assured her apologetically, genuinely perturbed by the idea that he could ever handle her any rougher than a dandelion... unless she asked, of course. Maybe it was because he'd never actually experienced his own temper before and had no idea how far he could be pushed. Well, now he knew.

And so did Laura. She also recognized in that moment that Stefan Urquelle _was_ flawed. Like anyone else, he wasn't the infallible mold of perfection like she'd fooled herself to believe... none of them were. It suddenly seemed futile to chase such a vision in him. Or in Steve, for that matter. And certainly not in herself.

"And... I'm sorry for posing as Steve, that was wrong," Stefan continued with remorse, manning up to step into his faults… unlike her. But regardless of her provocation, he felt it was necessary to explain himself. "You know better than anyone that none of this is what I would normally do. But you also know I wouldn't have had to do it if you'd just been honest with me from the beginning. Don't pretend like I didn't ask you if you there was something going on; you lied to me."

…And it was back to the issue at hand, much to Laura's dismay. But she knew that there was no place left to run from the consequences of her actions. Once again confronted by the looming shadows of her own faults, she had no choice to cower under the darkness.

Disgraced, she languidly dragged herself back to the railing as the guilt she'd been trying to escape became her overlord, threatening to suffocate her unless she surrendered this dangerous game once and for all. "…You're right," she admitted with a shameful murmur, shaking her head ruefully as she acknowledged the biggest mistake she made: "God, you're right. Ugh, I should've just told you everything when all of this first started."

 _Yeah, no kidding._ Stefan thought to hear her admit it would make him feel better. Not only wasn't that the case, but despite her acknowledgment, his mind began to defer to disturbing thoughts buried even deeper beneath this conundrum.

He sighed heavily as he watched her retreat to the railing, swallowing a lump of revulsion at the realization that the trust between them had been on shaky ground for a while now… longer than she probably even realized.

"…Y'know ...I should've known that letting so much slide would come back to haunt me somehow. I should've known it since I got back from Paris," he mused with regret, giving a defeated shake of his head as he considered that maybe _he_ was the real fool in this lunacy.

… _Paris?_ As far as she knew, he'd been bamboozled by her only recently and yet he was implying that he'd been suspicious all year. Her curiosity got the best of her and she glanced over her shoulder to him in confusion. "…What are you—?"

"I know you were seeing other guys while I was away last year," he interjected curtly, his hands returning to his pockets as the resentment he'd been disregarding on that front revived itself at the very mention of it. He never thought he'd have to bring it up, but in light of all of this gut-wrenching insight, it became pertinent.

…And Laura could have died right there. It was certainly a sore subject considering that he waited until _now_ to bring it up!In an attempt to hide her utter shock at his poorly-timed indictment, her jaws clenched to keep a gasp from escaping. So he was just gonna just keeping bring up old stuff, huh? Well, at least he was calm now…

"…Oh, don't be so dramatic," she rebuked with a dismissive roll of her eyes. _"_ None of it was serious and most of the time, they were just double dates with Max while you're always _traveling_ — it didn't mean anything." There. The perfect alibi to make his claim irrelevant… or so she thought.

"Yeah, _sure_ ," he replied with a scoff, nodding skeptically. Unfortunately for her, he was armed with a specific name that pointed to the broad side of the truth. "And what about …Curtis? _Study buddy?_ " he said with disillusioned sarcasm.

And the more he called her out, the more she fell into a bottomless pit of shame. It became harder and harder to hide. "…Old news. I haven't dated him in forever, you know that," she insisted meekly, every trace of her stubborn resolve broken down by the knowledge that she had officially stooped lower than a worm. And apparently, he knew all along how low she could slither.

But Stefan wasn't going to let her squirm her way out of this one either. "If your definition of 'forever' is last Christmas, then you're right," he replied tightly as he approached her again, deftly handling his composure a lot better than he did a few minutes ago. Finding a spot beside her by the railing, he leaned forwards against it as he elaborated on the extent of his awareness. "But do you know that fool tried to check me? Had the nerve to say that _I_ ruined a good thing."

… _Checkmate._ She just deflated in the defeat as he built a wall that she ran face-first into, exhausted of all wits to carry the charade any further. Although, one thing still didn't make sense to her. "…How come you never said anything?" she asked timidly after a beat of guilty silence, sneaking an anxious glance at him.

"I hadn't seen you in so long; I didn't want you to feel guilty," he replied sullenly, staring out into the yard as he reflected on his lenient mindset during simpler times. He was beginning to miss those days. "But I sat on it for a while. In the end ...I didn't think it mattered because I thought we were moving forward. Maybe I was wrong..."

She knew she didn't have anything left when it came to glossing over her guilt and so she finally let her deeply rooted insecurities express themselves, appealing to him barely above a whisper, "…How can we move forward if you're never here, Stefan? What was I supposed to do while you're always gone, lock myself in my room and hug my pillow while the rest of the city has a social life?"

...If only she knew that he had the means to move forward beyond their wildest dreams.. _and_ the Tiffany's receipt to prove it. The fact that those dreams were shattering before his very eyes made him anxious to find a resolution. And that meant ironing out all of the confusion. "Laura... if we were supposed to be seeing other people, you didn't mention that to me _."_

 _..._ Must've slipped her mind like her tongue did when she collided with Steve's lips. _"_ But, I didn't even know if you were ever coming back…" she replied timidly, cringing as she awaited his retort. But she already knew what he was going to say...

It was true that their future was up in the air at the time, but she sure gave him the impression that the chances of her drifting were one in a million. "If you didn't know that, then why did you call me almost every night to tell me how much you missed me? Our _three-hour_ conversations ran my hotel bills through the roof," he reminded her with marked irritation, challenging the obvious pot-holes in her flaccid argument, left with only gaps of speculation to chew on. "And now... I find out you have feelings for... Steve. _Steve Urkel."_ It blew his mind; the most unlikely event of the century had somehow manifested.

Stefan felt himself getting angry all over again, clenching his jaw as the very musing became like a bitter lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow, grumbling with contempt,"I _gotta_ be crazy 'cause I didn't even see that coming." Then he felt a tinge of anger towards himself ...maybe he _should_ have.

It was as if hearing him confirm out-loud that she was a selfish, lying, two-timing snake — in his own, subtle way — was enough to chisel away her stubborn pride once and for all. Besides, even if she hadn't betrayed him, her treatment of Steve all of these years said it all. And she humbly conceded, owning her screw-ups and carrying the heavy weight of disgrace on her shoulders.

She knew she had to pay the piper sooner or later. It was a sobering experience to see who you _really_ are for the first time... Laura was having that moment. Turning to face him, she didn't know what else to do anymore but beg for mercy, even though she was well aware that it may have been too late. She had ridden this wagon of foolishness right off of a cliff.

"…I'm sorry, Stefan. I'm _really_ sorry. I messed up, okay? I messed up _big time_. You're right, I have no business blaming you. This is all my fault." The most aggravating part about it was that hurting anyone was never her intention, least of all the two people she cared about the most. "Everything just spiraled out of control. I don't know what the heck I was even thinking... I didn't know what I was _doing_... I just ...lost a grip on everything..."

 _Finally_ , some accountability. Becoming receptive to her apology, Stefan couldn't help but soften as he shifted his lean on the railing to face her. It was as if that was all he needed to feel the tension in his muscles decompress for the first time since he was blissfully unaware of her deceit. Now that they were allowing in a little clarity, they could finally have an adult conversation.

And out of everything that he still questioned, one major itch in the back of his mind — _and_ his ego — reigned supreme. "But... why _him_?" Either she really had lost her mind... or her feelings were deeper than she was admitting. "…Do you… do you love him or something?" he uttered reluctantly, the words so sour on his tongue that he wanted to gag. But he had to ask, even though he would rather have been punched in the gut.

And all he saw in her eyes was uncertainty as she searched for the right way to put it. "I don't know, I...I don't... _think_ so..." she murmured tentatively as she was forced to consider the possibility. A prisoner of the truth, all she could do was explain it from the heart. "It's just that… I realized Steve's far more important to me than I thought he was. I've basically lived my whole life with him and in a way, he's apart of who I am. And _that_ scares me to death. But, I can't keep just abandoning him when the only thing he's ever done is love me." Of course, there was more to it than that, but…

" _So have I,_ Laura," he retorted firmly, offended that there was even a comparison to make. "Since when is he worth everything _we_ have?"

It was like jumping out of an airplane with no parachute — she knew that she wouldn't be spared the agony of the truth no matter what she did. Catching his gaze intently, she just sighed with regret, softly revealing the mother of all truths that painted the broadest picture of all. "Stefan …you wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Steve."

Although his stern expression was frozen solid, he was so stunned by her reply but he couldn't help but stagger backwards from her as if he was knocked off balance by a strong gust of wind. "...Oh, _I see." ...Said the blind man._ Of all of the things he prepared himself to hear from her, that was the last thing he could've thought of. _"_ So, _that's_ what this is really about..."

And suddenly, Stefan was the one without a parachute. Because the impact of that epiphany was definitely worse than a punch to the gut. Becoming outraged by what she was suggesting, he stepped away from her towards the opposite end of the porch to meditatively chew on that bitter pill in pensive silence.

The biggest problem was… well, she was right. Unfortunately, that also meant that he owed his happiness, his hopes, and his dreams on the very guy who was on the cusp of stealing his woman. He suddenly wished he had brought some antacids with him.

… _Great_ , now she hated herself even more. It was agonizing to watch him mentally battle the irony she threw in his face, but he wanted the truth, right? More than owing it to him after all that she'd done, she owed it to herself since that elusive fact had been the root of her confusion. Even worse, perception of his pain made her even more aware of her feelings for him. And all she could do was atone until she was blue in the face.

"…The only thing I can say is that I never meant to hurt you," she pleaded, her voice beginning to waver as her remorse coagulated in her throat, fighting back tears of frustration. "Don't you see that's why I didn't know how to tell you?! Can't you understand how confusing this is for me? It's not like I enjoyed lying to either one of you! And I certainly didn't want things to end up like this."

But it was safe to say that her efforts to keep the madness on a leash were an epic fail. Stefan managed to keep his irritation on ice to keep from losing a grip on his composure, calmly turning to face her as he wished away his nausea. "How can I believe that? You've been lying to me for so long, I don't even know who you are anymore. I haven't recognized you in months… _"_

"Yeah, well... that makes two of us," she conceded with a disheartened murmur. Emotionally spent, her fingers lifted to quickly catch a tear or two that dared to spring from her eyes. By now, she had already submitted to the possibility of losing him and with nothing left to deflect, she patiently awaited to be doused with more scalding accusations.

Becoming sullen as the future of their relationship became blurry, Stefan realized that this entire ball of confusion only made him aware of the nature of his passion for her, which seemed to extinguish his uncertainty the longer he looked at her. At least now he had enough clarity to make sense of it all. At the end of the day, she was the only one had this type of power over his reactions. For good or for bad, Laura Winslow was truly one of a kind and she would always be worth fighting for in his mind.

Unable to resist the onslaught of sympathy he felt for her as a result, he became motivated to shift the focus to where they could have possibly gone wrong… and a possible solution. But he knew he had to open up to her in order to get the same in return. With a heavy sigh, he absorbed the sickening blow to his ego and he softened compassionately. "Laura... I wanna know what changed between us. What can we do to fix this?"

…Boy, he was unpredictable tonight, wasn't he? She'd been expecting him to whip out final lashings, throw in the towel, and leave her helplessly soaked by a downpour of shame. But much to her surprise, he was actually receptive to throwing caution to the wind and seeing this disaster through … _was he nuts?_ She couldn't help but scowl at him with befuddled curiosity, "…Why would you still want to?!"

" _Because!"_ he gritted earnestly, almost maddened by her sudden inability to see just how much she meant to him. So much so that he was willing to make a complete fool out of himself if it meant to clinging to what was rapidly slipping away…posing as Steve proved that much. Dropping his shields, he released his agitation like a heavy bag of bricks and let himself be vulnerable to his weakness for her. "…You don't get it, do you? You thought I was just gonna give up on you, right?"

"…Well, yeah?" Laura replied skittishly as she continued to squirm in her dejection, unable to dry all of the tears that suddenly began to leak from her eyes like a broken faucet, her fingers swiping across her cheeks over and over again. The fear of him hating her guts had been the motivating factor of this scandalous cover-up after all.

"Well, there's one thing I'll give Steve credit for…" Since acknowledging the guy's involvement in their relationship seemed unavoidable, he might as well tip his hat to make a point …begrudgingly, of course, as he once again moved towards her to the close the tense gap between them. "He made my devotion to you just as boundless as his, maybe even more. So if he's as smart as he thinks he is ...then he already knows I'm not going _anywhere_."

…Well, she hadn't thought of it like that. It made sense that despite their differences, a lot of their sentiments were the same when it came to her. They were both tirelessly diligent in that respect, almost to a fault. But the more this occurred to her, the more daunting her confusion became. After everything, she was still no closer to making a choice. And that frustrated her to no end.

"You'd forgive me..?" she asked with an incredulous knit in her brow, teary-eyed as she dared to gaze into his sour-piercing stare and knew that his mind was made up. "Even _now_ , after all of this damage I've caused?"

"You think I'm not gonna stand up for us after all we've been through?" Becoming aware just how close to the edge of the cliff they were as a couple, he suddenly missed the hell out of her even though she was standing right in front of him. In that moment, nothing was more important than curbing her sadness, gently cupping her cheek with his hand as his thumb swiped away the streaks down her face. "You used to feel the same way..."

 _..._ In a moment where she should have been firm in considering the next best step, she found herself vulnerable to his alluring spell. Unable to help herself, she surrendered the weight of her head against his palm, the tension in her body finding relief in his closeness as he comforted her. Sheesh, why did he always know the right thing to do?

"...That's why it's so hard," she murmured, resisting her desires in order to stand objectively in her own plight. And she decided right then and there that the lies had to stop. If she ever hoped to wiggle free from this tangled web of confusion, then it was time to start getting real about everything. She reluctantly grabbed his hand pulled it away from her cheek... though she couldn't let go of it for some reason. And by the way he laced his fingers through hers, he didn't want her to.

"But, I don't know how to even explain it. It's like... it's _bigger_ than just my feelings for either one of you. And I don't know what to do to make it right. Maybe... maybe we should just…" she trailed off apprehensively — she _really_ didn't want to finish that sentence. Alas, she heard her mother's voice in her head, warning her of the guaranteed tragedy heart games always caused.

But Stefan he had no intentions of allowing her to even consider it. One thing he knew for a fact: whether he was in competition with another guy or not, she always proved to be powerless against his seduction... his awareness of this became the perfect tactic in dissuading her chance to tip the scales.

Before she could even gather the courage articulate that thought, she was abruptly stunned into silence as he possessively gathered her in his arms and defiantly stole a kiss from her like never before... and it could spark fireworks.

… _Aww, why did he have to go and do that?!_ Now, she was ruined... a melted pile of flesh and hormones — there was simply no escaping his entrancing, Stefan-ized charm. As predicted, he felt her surrender to the safety of his embrace as she relaxed against him, her arms slowly snaking around his neck as their kiss deepened, if that were even possible.

It could have been minutes, maybe hours, before they finally surfaced for air... she couldn't tell. Both equally breathless as their lips parted, she stared half-lidded into his smoldering gaze ...and suddenly, she found she could barely think, let alone remember what they were arguing about.

Stefan went on to deviously derail her muddy conscience as he whispered to her with a sultry croon, "Tell me. Can Steve do _that_ to you?" Not that he was going to allow her to answer... at least not until he turned her mind to mush with the sensation of his lips landing a trail of kisses along the arc of her neck. "...Or _this?_ "

 _Oh no, not the neck!_ And on top of that, he had the nerve to caress the length of her spine with his fingertips, making her shudder with hankering passion. " _Stefan_..." she moaned, a helpless victim to the hormonal undertow, recklessly carried away on a wave of ecstasy that she didn't want to fight any longer. It became brutally apparent that Dracula had nothing on him.

And suddenly, not even the perfect little angel on her shoulder had the power to talk her out of wanting to devour him whole in that moment. There only seemed to be one solution to the overflowing desire he provoked in her. "Let's go to my room..." she purred at him, a salacious twinkle in her eye.

 _...Oh, yeah?_ He pulled back to regard her with a skeptical hook in his brow, but the desire in her eyes was undeniable. Wow, it worked.

A part of him had been expecting her to resist him at some point. He even expected his own conscience getting the best of him. Every time they came close to pulling the trigger on that next level, one of them chickened out. But it was clear that whether they were 'rushing' or not, the sentiment seemed mutual that they'd waited long enough.

Besides, they were so emotionally charged after that exhausting quarrel that rational thinking was the loser by default. Stefan decided right then and there that he had to raise the bar if he wanted her to be his. Never in a million years was he was going to let... _Steve Urkel_ up-one him and steal his future wife. _Not now, not yesterday, not tomorrow._

"...I'll lead the way," he crooned affirmatively as he stooped to slip an arm under her legs and scooped her off of her feet. He walked to the back door as Laura clung to him, her free hand extended to pull the door open, hesitating just as her hand touched the doorknob as an obtrusive thought occurred to her.

"Hold it," she balked, causing Stefan to stop in his tracks to peer at her curiously. She scowled in thought as she tried to recall everyone's whereabouts. She knew her parents were out for the night, Richie and 3J were at a sleepover, and Eddie wasn't likely to be back from his date with Greta until dawn. But there was one person unaccounted for. "...Is Steve still —?"

" _Don't ..._ worry about him," Stefan clenched, irked by the very mention of his name, which was starting to sound like nails on a chalkboard. But he recovered with an impish smirk as the prospect of showing her who she _really_ belonged to sharpened in his mind's eye. "We still got the house all to ourselves, remember?" And in case she forgot, he didn't hesitate to remind her with another kiss.

...Well, they better make the most of it, then! She just chose to ignore the tiny tinge of guilt she felt as thoughts of Steve briefly returned to the peripherals of her conscience... until Stefan's kiss extinguished them, that is. Before long, they were captured by another trap of desire and soon enough, their lips found difficulty detaching, forcing them to multi-task their way back inside the house.

He was right. Maybe it just was best to ...not worry about Steve right now...

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 21_


	21. Same Ol' Mistakes

_**Chapter 21: Same Ol' Mistakes**_

 _Summary: Laura struggles to find the courage to do something about the vicious cycle of denial she's been stuck in._

* * *

A man of his word, Steve did change his clothes and prepared to leave the house. But Stefan only said to give them time alone — he never said he actually had to go very far. To Steve, that translated to 'be an inconspicuous third-party witness from a distance'… No problemo! The impulse to eavesdrop had overwhelmed him the moment Stefan made clear his intentions to circle the wagons.

So he exited the house as promised, only to stop short of the backyard, buzzing with anticipation as he camped out behind the dumpsters to peep through a bush-hidden crack in the gate behind the hedges.

At first he fussed with his conscience over the ethical lesson in privacy he'd learned recently, but in the delusional rationale of his Urkel mind, this was as much his business as it was theirs! This had officially become a 'Three's Company' situation the moment Laura confessed her feelings for both of them. He made up his mind that he would be the most loyal third wheel there ever was if it meant there was the slightest possibility of triumph.

Unfortunately, even as the couple shouted at each other, he couldn't exactly make out what they were saying from that distance and it made putting context to visuals a bit difficult. But watching them through the shroud of itchy twigs proved to be more soul-snatching than any horror movie he'd ever seen. He watched on as the tension between them surfed a wave of extremes, whisking him away on the rollercoaster right along with them.

Within a matter of minutes, he went from hopeful at the level of anger had towards each other… to disturbed by Stefan's uncharacteristic loss of temperance… to infuriated when he dared to grab Laura by the arm — it took all his strength not to blow his cover and jump the gate with his dukes swinging.

But then… when they began to relate on a level of intimacy he'd always envied, it kept him hanging on the limb of confusion and suspense… only for the bough to break as his heart sank to abysmal new lows. …Were they… _kissing?_

"…What in the name of Billy B. Frigged _is this?!_ " he blurted with an astonished whisper, luckily out of earshot. The heat of the moment had those two so preoccupied with their tongue-wars that they didn't even took notice of the rustling of the leaves in the bush as Steve recoiled in horror.

He'd walked in on them necking many times before but he'd never seen them quite this… impassioned. Gut-checked by the sight, and slightly nauseated, he shrunk away from the bushes with a disheartened grumble and a rueful shake of his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. _Figures_.

After that train wreck of a stunt he and Stefan pulled on her, Steve had been almost giddy with excitement at the thought that Laura would kick this chum to the curb once and for all. Of course, that meant not even considering that she might still be mad him too. His assume-the-best tendencies had him tasting sweet, premature victory. And now his hopes were again shattered by the cruelty of his perpetual bad luck.

Meh, who was he kidding? It's not like he wasn't aware just how _persuasive_ Stefan could be — he'd designed him to be a lover, afterall. …And that's when the unnerving realization that he'd left them by themselves in an empty house fizzled his hopes right out. He knew for a fact that she was beyond saving at this point.

Suddenly, he felt drained of his curiosity as he began to silently retreat from the gate to amble down the alley, defiantly taking his discouragement with him. Whatever they were doing now… he no longer wanted to know.

Unfortunately, he could only think of one distraction for the sickening onset of pessimism that soured his gut. At least somebody around here would be guaranteed to want his company… at whatever exhausting cost that may afford him. Ignoring his right mind, he steeled his poise with determination and made an impetuous bee-line towards Myra's house.

As overbearing as she could be, Myra never went out of her way to disregard him in this way… in fact, she was the only one in his life that went out of her way to do the opposite. And as selfish as he knew the impulse was to rebound off of his disappointment, he also knew she would do his ego some good. Perhaps he could wake up tomorrow with a fond memory or two before Laura brushed him aside with another lie dressed in a lie. If nothing else, he could get a game of Twister out of the deal.

* * *

Stefan and Laura were impetuously headed down a path of no return as they remained lip-locked on their way to her bedroom. Enslaved by cravings that snuck up on them like a tidal wave, they soon found out why they had practiced restraint all of this time in the first place — the fire of their connection became the equivalent of an unstoppable cosmic force. As a result, their attraction for each other went from vanilla to downright feral in a matter of seconds. And the distressful vibe of their confrontation quickly faded as a distant, irrelevant memory.

By the time they made it upstairs, their inflamed desires could barely wait until the bedroom door was open before articles of clothing were shed to litter the floor. Hurriedly retreating beneath the covers of the bed, they shamelessly explored each other in ways they'd never dared before, boldly crossing naughty lines they couldn't step back from… and by then, Stefan was wondering why the hell they hadn't been doing this all along!

…Oh yeah, that's right. Because they wanted to be responsible adults and make it happen 'the right way'. But it occurred to him that it was absurd to resist the next level with her. In his mind, she had always been his wife-to-be. Hell, she used to be fiancée! And anything they did couldn't have possibly been something they'd regret… right? That easily could have been his hormones talking — he'd always been just as anxious as the next guy. But the more they abandoned their inhibitions, the more convinced he was that there wasn't another woman on this planet he would want that way. And he wasn't shy to show it.

As for Laura, it wasn't so much a matter of rebelling against those doubts as it was an extreme need to get out of her own head. She just didn't want to think anymore. She'd been so stressed out that it wasn't until his alluring persuasion preyed on her desires was her body reminded how neglected it had been.

As his skillful lips and hands worshiped her naked skin in all the right places, she realized that this was the most she'd been touched in months, let alone cherished like there was no tomorrow. The temptation to get utterly lost in him was irresistible and her confusion was suspended in limbo for the time being, pushed defiantly to the back burner while she relished in the relief his affection brought her… at first, that is.

They may have been drowning in reckless passion, but they weren't completely dismissive of precautions. Unfortunately, that meant accommodating the un-sexy few seconds it took to retrieve a condom and Stefan paused his devouring of her to do just that, briefly parting from her to lean over the side of the mattress to dig into the pockets of his pants that were tangled in a pile of clothes on the floor. He may have been apprehensive about the whole thing at first but that didn't mean he wasn't armed with safeguards at all times… if only getting the damn thing out of his wallet wasn't like pulling teeth — it took longer than it should have to get the ball rolling.

And as Laura lied beneath him, robbed of the warmth of their skin-to-skin contact as he angled awkwardly off the bed, it seemed that the longer she was free of his seductive grip, the more the delirious fog in her mind began to clear… and to her frustration, the first thing she thought about was Steve… and the timing couldn't have been more unfortunate.

 _I wonder what he's doing right now… What would he think if he knew this was happening? …What am I even going to say to him after this? …Would he hate me? ….But why does it even matter what he thinks? …You know why, Laura._

…And just like that, as if her brain had gotten caught in a spiderweb, she found that she couldn't wiggle her thoughts free of him at all. Alarmed by the fact that everything from the falsetto of his voice to the flood of his pants came to mind, she was suddenly free-falling into a spiral of guilt, her eyes becoming shifty as she searched for that fleeting courage she'd just embodied.

Hopefully Stefan's magic was enough to get her mind on the right track and fortify her intentions of following through… but by the time he pulled himself back onto the mattress to hover over her, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth, he paused just short of gloving the pitcher when he spotted the disquieted look in her eyes, which sharply contradicted the desire that had been behind them just moments before.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Try as she might to conceal her anxiety and put on a brave face, he knew her like the back of his hand and he could detect the uncertainty all over her. And he interpreted it as a red flag, immediately putting on the breaks to address her worries. As anxious as he was to pull the trigger, the last thing he wanted to do was be on that ride to bliss all by himself.

"…Laura? What's wrong?" he whispered, concerned by her sudden shift in mood. In an attempt to ease whatever was bothering her, he gently lowered to land a kiss on her forehead, tenderly brushing her hair out of her face. Ironically, it seemed the more he tried to comfort her, the more insecure she felt.

Boy, it was good thing _he_ couldn't read minds. Because she certainly wasn't going to let him know that she was starting to see Steve the more she looked at him… it was so eerie, it made her shudder. And she couldn't help but reluctantly turn her head away to spare herself the embarrassment, shame beginning to seep into her veins and saturating her desires like a snuffed out flame.

"… I-I don't know if we should do this..." she murmured nervously, beginning to resist the sensation of his body molded against her. Where his closeness blanketed her a sense of security before, she suddenly felt suffocated. …And it sucked because that wasn't what she wanted!

She _wanted_ to just be able to make love to her boyfriend without shame interference, _was that too much to ask?!_ Frustration immediately set in as she huffed a heavy sigh, resisting the urge to knock herself upside the head… she just hid her face behind her hands instead, mortified by her own stupidity.

Stefan scowled in confusion as he felt her wiggle from under him, bashfully tugging the covers up to her chin… as if she actually had anything hide from him anymore. But all he could do was despondently settle in the spot next to her and examine her curiously.

…Well, this looked familiar. He was immediately brought back to that night on Paradise Bluff when she nearly ravished him in his car, only this time he was ready and willing… and she was not. _Anymore_. He suddenly found himself plagued by his own doubts as his intuition hinted to him where this was going. "Are you okay...?" he asked gently, not wanting to make her anymore uncomfortable than she already was, despite feeling rejected and… well, blue-balled. Whatever blind passion he was feeling before, he certainly wasn't feeling now.

And Laura felt like a complete idiot, also relating the memory of the rushing him in his car that night only to reject him, which she knew was extremely unfair. And yet, here she was…still making the same mistakes over and over again. "Yeah… I'm so sorry," she whimpered remorsefully as she glanced at him anxiously, cringing under the scrutiny of his baffled stare.

…Which softened once he realized that _he'd_ been the one rushing them this time and any resistance at this point was just a sign that neither one of them were really ready. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured but … let's face it, after the things they'd done leading up to the main event, he didn't feel there was anything for either of them to be embarrassed about, but… okay.

Sighing heavily, he did his best to conceal his disappointment as he inched a little closer to her to offer reassurance, "Hey, don't be…" he whispered affectionately, consoling her with a soft kiss against her shoulder. "We can stop, it's fine.. I wasn't trying to —"

"No-no, _believe_ me, it's _not_ you," she interjected earnestly with a shake of her head, turning towards him console him in return, gently grazing his jaw with her fingertips. If only he knew how much she really wanted this. But it shouldn't have been this hard to begin with; it's not like they were doing anything wrong… only when all context of the situation was removed, that is. " _You_ were amazing… it's…it's just…" She paused in deep thought as she was forced to question her own character.

…Maybe the Deltas were right about her. Here she was, on the brink of a sacred milestone in her life with the guy of dreams, and she couldn't stop thinking about the best way to get _Steve_ out of her head. If she wasn't a whore… then she must've been just plain delusional.

She couldn't help but internally seethe at the fact that she had once again allowed herself to be so self-absorbed. But she also recognized that she alone had the power to shift the mindless habit once and for all. If not for her own sake, then for his _and_ Steve's sake.

Clutching the covers over her chest, she huffed a flustered sigh as she squirmed to sit up against the headboard, staring off into space pensively. "…I-I don't want us to do this just because we're trying to make everything go away. That _would_ be a mistake."

"…Is that what we're doing?" Stefan asked solemnly, quirking a brow as he sat up against the headboard as well. He really didn't want to come off as offended during such a vulnerable moment for her and he never wanted to be remembered as… _that guy_. But for some reason, he couldn't help but speculate why she'd regard him as such in the first place when she was just all over him like white on rice… but as she hinted at the real reasons, it became pretty difficult to swallow the bitterness on his tongue.

"It won't mean that my feelings for Steve are just gonna... vanish. Did you really expect them to? Is that why you changed your mind about this?" she asked with a quirk of her brow, slightly guarded as she acknowledged that he'd been the one insisting that they should wait ever since the whole sex conversation started. And now that they had almost taken the leap, she had to wonder why he was suddenly heedless of the consequences, just as she had been. Selfishness on both their parts were only going to lead to more problems.

And there was that name again. Yup… it was definitely like _claws_ on a chalkboard at this point and it made Stefan want to clench with ire. He couldn't stop the impulse to roll his eyes even if he wanted to, instantly affronted by the fact that she'd basically branded that heart-stopping intimacy between them just now as a mere ploy to distract themselves… which it was at first, but he'd managed to fall into his true intentions of just … loving her the way he wanted to. Steve had been the last thing on _his_ mind. And he couldn't have been more disenchanted. "Wow…you _are_ confused, aren't you?" he gritted tightly, unable to hide his frustration any longer.

 _SIGH_. _Here we go again._ Laura just deflated with regret as her head hung shamefully, helplessly stomaching to ripple of discomfort the truth always produced. "Stefan, don't get upset —"

" _My_ mind isn't the one that changes like a radio station, Laura…" he remarked indignantly, quite tired of shouldering the blame when he was the only one in this wacky equation who did absolutely nothing wrong to begin with. And it was starting to feel like he was the one taking the brunt of the punishment.

She couldn't even find a reason to get offended by that either; she knew he was right. But as much as she wanted him, she cared too much about him to continue to take advantage of him. And she knew that it was time to get real about everything, even if it stung them both to the core.

Becoming fed up with her own denial, she finally let the truth take the reigns, regarding him uneasily in fear of him snapping again. "But I _just_ made this same mistake, Stefan. I can't let this spiral out of control again, not while I still have feelings for both of you."

She knew she was still in love with him. But when it came to Steve… like she said before, it was _bigger_ than just her feelings. Until she could pinpoint what that unexplainable force of persuasion was, there only seemed to be one solution worth exploring anymore. "Maybe we should just... cool off. I think I need… a little space," she murmured reluctantly, every fiber in her being crestfallen at the fact that abandoning her selfishness meant keeping him at arm's length. Ugh, why was her mother always right about _every little thing?_

…Well, that was clearly the last thing Stefan wanted to hear. And for a while, all he could do was choke on the bleakness of what she was implying. Didn't she say herself that they had too much 'space' between them as it was? And after what they just did, she was seriously considering throwing in the towel? Because of… _Steve?!_ He couldn't believe what he was hearing and he was stunned into silence, regarding her with an incredulous knit in his brow. It became so quiet that Laura could practically hear his heart dropping.

The pain in his eyes absolutely destroyed her. But she knew she was the one who caused it and she knew there was only one mature way to weather it. "Hey, look at me…" she whispered contritely, reaching to tug at his jaw once his gaze started to wander off despondently. He had half the mind to resist but her touch was his weakness and so he gave her his attention, patiently meeting her remorseful gaze as she went on to explain, "I'm not saying that I _want_ to break up... but if we're going to be adults about this, then I'm gonna need some time to think…"

They might as well make it plain so that there was no more confusion. "What you _are_ saying is that we're not gonna try to work this out, right?" he grumbled, becoming so agitated that he wanted to leap out of his own skin… though he surely handled his restraint a lot better this time, barely alluding to the intensity of his outrage. He knew this was hard for her to do and he didn't want to be _complete_ jerk… even though he saw the merit to do so from miles away.

Hard didn't even begin to describe the difficulty level of loosening her hold on him. She was having a time letting him go right now, cautiously reaching for his hand and giving it an apologetic squeeze as she appealed him softly. "I'm saying… that I'm not sure we can be exclusive right now. I know you don't understand. As you can see, I don't really understand it myself." Even saying it was like coughing up a hairball, but the road to maturity had to start somewhere.

"I see…" was all he could really say as he helplessly conceded to her terms. It's not like he had a choice if that's what she wanted. If he felt rejected before, then the misery that swelled in his gut in that moment paled in comparison. So far, he could only see one good thing that came from this. "…Well, at least you were honest this time," he remarked dolefully, defiantly withdrawing his hand from her grip. And without another word, he tossed the covers off his legs to swing them over the side of the bed, rankled as he leaned over to pluck his boxers from the pile on the floor.

 _Ouch_. And that was when her own heart dropped, stewing in the realization that there had been no avoiding this moment since the moment she kissed Steve, especially with as much lying as she'd done… as he just pointed out. It occurred to her that all she'd done thus far was delay the inevitable.

Sinking against the pillows as she hugged the covers tighter around her, all she could do was watch on helplessly as he began to get dressed, choking back tears of wretched shame that was so poignant, she was starting to feel light-headed. Even if he didn't hate her right now, she sure as hell hated herself something fierce.

It wasn't until Stefan stepped into his jeans and stood from the bed to pull them to his waist did he notice the half-opened condom wrapper on the mattress, teasing him like a pitiful relic that symbolized the unfortunate wall their relationship just ran into. Disheartened by the sight of it, he grabbed it and gave his wrist a resentful flick, aimlessly tossing it towards her wastebasket. "Guess we won't be needing that," he uttered ruefully before buttoning his jeans and zipping his fly.

A part of him was hopeful that she would change her mind. Despite everything, he was still unwilling to just… walk away. It just didn't seem right to him after three years of cherishing her with all of his might. And not only that.. he almost wanted to vomit at the thought of returning that ring… and he made up his mind right then and there that it just wasn't an option. That, unfortunately… left him at a crossroads with few options but to beg… which he refused to do right now, not while his ego was pulsing with rebellion. He couldn't believe she'd actually reduced him to this.

He huffed a heavy sigh and paused to absorb the fact that her remorseful silence all but confirmed that she really willing to just leave things flapping in the wind like this. As a result, one little gripe remained suspended in his consciousness like a splinter in his brain. "…You're not gonna quit on us, are you?" he asked sullenly… but before he could help himself, he followed up on his frustrations with a jab of piercing sarcasm. "Or are you gonna go test-drive Steve first, just to make sure you still want me?"

… _Yikes_. Laura's jaw dropped in surprise, drawn out of her guilty silence by the savagery of his words as she regarded him with an offended scowl. "…Stefan!" she gasped, insulted by what he was implying. He'd clearly gotten lost in the Forest of Feelings by now. Not that she blamed him, but… _damn_. "How could you say that?!"

"Nevermind," he grumbled with a defeated flail of his arms. What was the point? This was clearly an uphill battle. He decided to wave his white flag to save them both the exhaustion of another blow-out. "Whatever, I'm just gonna go, okay?" he said sullenly, finding some semblance of bitter respite as he began to mindlessly pace the room in search for his shirt, which he couldn't find in the pile. "You just make sure to let me know when you finally 'understand' what _this_ is."

"Stefan... _please_ don't do this." _Do what? Give her 'space'?_ He could feel the comeback just itching in his throat, but he swallowed it down with no intentions of hearing her out any longer. And she was desperate to appease his frustration and perhaps clarify that 'space' didn't necessarily mean never seeing or dating each other again. "I'm not trying to hurt you —"

But as far as Stefan was concerned, this conversation was over. If this was what she wanted, then there was nothing further to discuss. "Yeah, you said that already," he interjected skeptically as he frantically looked high and low around the room …dammit, where was his shirt?! The fact that he couldn't find it was starting to irritate him more than anything.

And the closer he came to walking out on her, the more the fear of losing him for good began to overshadow her newfound maturity. She almost wanted to quiver with regret; she couldn't let him just… leave like _this!_ "Stefan, wait a minute —!" she began to plead as she shifted on the bed to reach out to him, catching his arm just as he whisked past her bed… but then…

 _"...Laura?"_

 _Blink!_ They instantly froze like book-ends, their enraptured angst immediately taking a back seat as a muffled voice interrupted them… seemingly from nowhere. For a second, they scowled at each other in confusion when they realized that neither one of them had said her name… so who was _that?_

" _Sweetheart? Are you up there?"_ said the voice again… a _burly_ middle-aged voice with the bass of authority. And their gazes shifted towards the closed bedroom door as that voice floated faintly through it.

And when it finally registered who it was, their faces collapsed, instantly blanching as if the prospect of imminent death had abruptly dawned on them. They exchanged a wide-eyed stare of unadulterated horror.

All Stefan could do was pray that he hadn't heard what he thought he heard. Their voices lowered to skittish whispers as he speculated with a head-shake of denial, "Oh, I just _know_ that's not…"

" _My Dad!_ " Laura confirmed with a gasp of hair-raising fright, using the grip on his arm to yank herself out of the bed like a bat out of hell, the comforter clutched faithfully around her as it was ripped off the mattress.

...Stefan was shell-shocked, tarred to the spot he stood in as his mind raced to rally a game plan. Because her Dad… _the top cop_ … _who had a gun_ … was on his way upstairs. And he was standing there, in his _naked_ daughter's room... _shirtless_. Ummm… _shit_.

" _Oh, my God!"_ Laura squealed barely above a whisper, distraught as she turned to him for the answer to the _brand_ _new_ problem that suddenly fell into their laps. She quickly glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "What are they doing home so early?!" If her Dad was here, then that must've meant her mother was home, too... what if they _both_ were on their way upstairs?! ...Time to panic. She could barely keep herself from hyperventilating...

"How am _I_ supposed to know?! This is _your_ house!" Stefan hissed with a panicked whisper, completely unnerved by fact that she didn't have an escape plan in the first place. This evening was clearly a bust all around — even if they _had_ followed through with knockin' boots, they probably would have gotten caught! But they didn't have time to bicker... especially not when _the voice_ continued to request a response... and it was a little louder this time.

 _"Laura?"_

 _Oh, no._ It felt like the walls were closing in on them like a booby trap in an Indiana Jones movie.

Laura frantically shifted her gaze back and forth from Stefan to the door as the gears in her mind turned so rapidly that her ears were smoking. She debated on whether or not she should just… lock the door. But she knew that was a no-no according to the house rules… so was having her boyfriend in her room while her parents weren't home — much less naked and engaging in romps of passion. Either way, the deadlock of options only brought her to one unmistakable conclusion. "Oh, we are _so_ dead," she mused in dry defeat.

...Not if Stefan had anything to do with it! "Speak for yourself!" To hell with his clothes — he was outta here! With those parting words, he bolted to the window so fast that she could have sworn that he left a dust cloud in his wake. Yanking it open, he quickly stuck his leg over the sill to duck through it, having every intention on barrel-rolling off the roof to the ground like a soldier. He'd gladly break a leg if it meant he got to keep his life.

"No-no-no! _Don't!_ " she protested frantically, instinctively rushing to grab him by the arm to tug him back into the room.

"Why not?!" he squawked incredulously as he stumbled back inside. Seemed like the perfect solution to him.

Besides the fact that he'd really hurt himself? "You're half-naked, you can't jump out the window!" she blurted as her mind ran a thousand miles a second, the needle of rationale in her brain landing on an inapplicable reason instead of a practical one.

And he just shot her a blank stare ...because that was _so_ not the problem they had right now. His half-nakedness was irrelevant if he wasn't seen in the first place. He couldn't even help his sarcastic reaction to that one. "Ohhh, no problem, I'll just call my tailor up and tell him to meet me at the drop zone!" ...Too bad he hadn't minded his volume.

"Shhhh!" Laura shushed in a frenzy as she quickly clasped her hand over his mouth.

"… _Laura? Is that you, honey?"_

...Too late. With a gasp, they both instinctively clutched each other as if they were stuck on a ledge thousands of feet in the air. She honestly would have preferred that scenario right now. Her hand still clamping Stefan's mouth shut, she knew she had no choice but to answer her father or the suspicion would really begin to set in. Besides, it sounded like he was still downstairs... that meant they still had a little time to make a miracle happen.

Unable to properly think straight, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. "…Uh-uh… yeah, Dad, I'm-I'm up here!"

"Woman!" Stefan muffled against her palm before he yanked her hand from his mouth to seethe _quietly_ at her with terror. _"Are you crazy?!"_ Did she not see that she was adding fuel to the fire here? ...He was definitely starting to detect a definite pattern in her personality type.

"What else am I supposed to do?!" she hissed _quietly_ in response before kicking the second part of her makeshift escape plan into high gear. And the plan was very simple in theory but she knew it would be a difficult to execute. With the sand of doom rapidly trickling out of the hourglass, she gave him a forceful shove towards the clothes pile: "Hurry, get dressed!"

...Didn't have to tell him twice! Like a pair of rabid racoons, they began to plow, rip and run through the room on a scavenger hunt to salvation so hysterically that they resembled rodeo clowns in a bull pit.

Stefan ended up finding his shirt on... on the ceiling fan? How the hell did it get up there? Hopping up to snag it, he somehow managed to slip into it by the time his feet hit the floor. And then hitting the deck like he was dodging a bullet, he frantically searched the floor for his shoes and his blazer.

As for Laura... well, there was no way she was going to be able to squeeze into that dress again in time and so her only option was to kick it... _and_ her panties... under the bed while she sifted through her dresser drawer for a t-shirt and jeans. Yanking out the most modest articles she could find, she quickly unraveled the blanket from around her and hid beneath it... only to pop out from under it fully dressed in about three seconds flat, quickly combing her fingers through her tousled hair. Just in time to see Stefan struggling to shoulder into his blazer. And he wasn't moving fast enough for her.

"C'mon, hurry up!" she whispered frantically as she rushed towards him with the comforter, quickly tossing it onto her mattress in a pile of disarray before grabbing the lapels of his jacket and yanking it forcibly onto him.

Uh, _excuse her_. That blazer cost a pretty penny and somehow, the wrinkles she began to make it in as she clenched her fists around it became a primary concern as he scowled at her. "Hold on _— chill_ , girl!" he whispered irritably at her as he was rapidly groomed to perfection.

Yeah, she was hearing none of that. " _Shhh!_ 'Chill' _nothing —_ he's coming!" she seethed quietly in reply, quickly buttoning it up on him before dragging him towards the door with intentions of being caught by her Dad anywhere but _inside_ her room, quickly reaching for the knob... right as the door began to creak on the hinges, slowly revealing the uniform-clad _Dad_ behind it.

 _Blink!_ They both quickly hopped away from the door in unison as it opened. Laura recoiled as if the knob shocked her with static electricity before perking side-by-side with Stefan. And by the time Carl spotted them, their faces were painted with grins so innocent that he could practically see the halos shimmering above their heads. _Brow quirk._

"...H-Hi, Daddy! Welcome home!" Laura chirped brightly as she clasped her hands in front of her like the perfect little lady. And she certainly didn't have the look of the girl who had nearly discovered her womanhood tonight.

And Stefan didn't look like a guy who had almost stolen his daughter's v-card. ...Unfortunately, he opened the gateways of suspicion the moment he opened his mouth.

"Hiya, Big Guy!" he blurted impulsively... _in Steve's voice?_ "Uh-uh, I-I mean ... _ahem_ ," he fumbled with a baffled stutter, quickly clearing his throat with his fist over his mouth, resisting the urge to cringe under Carl's dumbfounded scrutiny.

 _...What the hell?_ Even Laura couldn't help but break her innocent grin to gape at him in horror. And all he could do was scowl in confusion... somehow his act from earlier that night had trickled into this deception as well.

But he recovered quickly to pick up the slack, sprinkling extra special suaveness into his Stefan-ized persona as he stepped up to the bat again. "... _B.G.!_ What's happenin', my man?" Cue the wink and finger guns. He knew the quickest way to the Big Guy's heart was flattery and so he didn't miss a beat, laying the butter on thick. "Lookin' thinner than a Wheat Crisp today... _sir_."

 _Oh, Dear Lord_. Laura wished could just phase into the carpet and disappear, slowly face-palming as she had a premonition of their demise. Her luck had been pretty bad lately — it no longer surprised her that she couldn't win.

" _Ohhhh, you_ ," Carl drawled with smug chuckle as he sucked in the compliment, shuffling with pride as he sportfully patted Stefan on the gut. "Well. I did just have one cruller this morning instead of three." ...But things had a chance to start looking up... because it looked like the Big Guy bought it. Stefan not only stepped up to the bat, he hit a home-run apparently.

 _Sheesh, that was close._ The relief of watching Carl deflate out of suspicion before their very eyes was more refreshing than the first sunshine after an Ice Age... the solaced grins that sprung on their faces were suddenly genuine. In fact, all three of them relaxed, with Carl's alleviation rooted in the fact that it _wasn't_ Steve he was talking to.

"How ya doin', Stefan?" Carl asked warmly, extending his hand for a shake... before pausing tentatively to lift a brow at him, giving him the side-eye. "...That _is_ _you_ , right? Please tell me that's you." _Just makin' sure._

"...N-none other!" Stefan stammered, trying his best to keep his wavering confidence intact. He was usually quick on his feet but the circumstances were quite... intimidating. Not to mention the fact that this whole semi-break-up thing with Laura was still knocking on the door of his subconscious. It was a little difficult to concentrate.

"Who else c-could it be? And _I... Stefan Urquelle..._ couldn't be better." ...Why did he suddenly feel like an imposter in his _own_ clothes? All he could do was chuckle nervously to keep from seething in frustration, firmly taking Carl's hand and giving it a zealous shake. Quick, more flattery! "I heard about your promotion! Congratulations, sir. Never was there a finer Captain to clean-sweep the city streets."

Wow, this was... agonizing. It felt like they had been standing there for hours already. Laura could only hope Stefan had the chops to stay afloat as she anxiously spectated their interaction, her fingers tightly crossed behind her back... well, he managed to keep his portrayal of Steve from falling apart so there was hope for him yet! He was lucky her father adored him.

"Oh, thank you, young man! That was... poetic," Carl replied cheerfully... to Stefan's relief. "Brought a couple of slices of cake home if you want some," he offered graciously.

"Ah, no thanks," Stefan replied coolly, giving the lapels of his blazer a calm and collected tug, wasting no more time in executing his exit strategy. Because he just might suffocate if he stood there any longer. "Would love to stay and celebrate a little but I was just on my way out. Give Harriette my love," he said as he quickly shouldered his way past Carl and stepped out of the room.

It was only as Laura watched him begin to leave did that heavy feeling of dejection return to her. For those few moments that they were distracted with saving their own lives, she'd almost forgot about what was about to slip through her fingers. Everything from their fiery argument to those passionate moments when no one else in the world existed but them flooded to her like a broken dam. She missed him already.

And her gaze became sullen she peered at him over her father's shoulder. She suddenly tingled to reached out to him... but she stomached the yearning impulse with a tight gulp instead. _Be strong, Laura._

Pausing in the hallway, Stefan pivoted to shoot another final wink at Carl, fawning him with another finger-gun. "You stay cool, now… _El Capitan_." And of course, Carl was a complete sucker for it, sharing a bantering chuckle or two with him as he returned the finger-gun.

 _Oh, Lord._ Laura just rolled her eyes dismissively at their painfully un-witty repartee as she began to settle back into the shame of everything that had happened tonight... well, at least her father was an easier rump-kissing target than they expected. And for the split second that they weren't under his scrutiny, their eyes met secretly, silently exchanging an unspoken sentiment of regret.

"Laura," Stefan said evenly, but even if Carl couldn't detect the dejection in his voice, he knew that she could. Because nobody knew him better than her. And he only had one thing left to say. "...Call me later." Code for: _Don't give up on us._

Ugh, it was like a shot to the heart to watch him retreat. She resisted the urge to lean out of the door to call after him... especially when she was brought back to the reality by the looming shadow her father's large frame cast on her as he entered her room further, causing her to back-peddle a few steps.

And she tried not to notice that incredulous look that sprung on his face the moment Stefan was out of sight... a look she knew all too well. "...S-so! ...How was the party?!" she chirped, mustering her best face-aching perfect-little-angel grin, watching nervously as he began to close her bedroom door behind him... that meant he wanted to 'talk'. _Damn._

"Oh, it was decent," Carl said with an easy smile he recounted his favorite part about it: "Everybody in the precinct chipped in and bought me this great big cake shaped like a cop car. With a giant donut on the hood! The glaze even had little lights that flashed."

"That's great, Dad. I'm really proud of you," she humored him disingenuously, not because she wasn't happy for him, but she was having a hard time channeling anything but the depression this entire night afforded her. She hadn't even had time to think about his promotion with the sky falling down all around her... and then the guilt of _that_ set in as well. "Maybe we should all go out this weekend and celebrate together."

"That's a good idea," he agreed with a nod... but she knew their light-hearted exchange was short-lived as she watched him pensively plant his hands on his hips, becoming solemn. "But we can talk about that later. Sit down, honey. I wanna ask you something."

 _Ack._ She saw that one coming. Her gut dropped at the thought of enduring yet another battle of wits... she would love to catch a break right about now.

Calmly doing as she was told, she stepped to the foot of her bed and sat down, immediately realizing that he must've noticed that the bed wasn't made. _Strike one._ And with a glimpse down between her feet, she also noticed her bra on the floor plain as day... _strike two!_ Looks like their self-rescue mission had been a little sloppy. If only she'd had more time to scout the room before he barged in.

"…S-S-Sure. What is it, Dad?" she stammered as she tried inconspicuously to kick her bra under the bed, praying that he hadn't noticed as she scrambled to iron out the wrinkles in her comforter, peering up to innocently.

She couldn't tell how suspicious he was since he seemed pretty relaxed. All she could do now was clench in anticipation, hoping with all of her might that he wouldn't ask her what she thought he would ask her.

"Well, honey, I'm a little disturbed by what I just saw," Carl mused stoically as he gave her an admonishing look. "...What was Stefan doing in your room?"

 _And there it is._ Well, it was a good sign that he wasn't freaking out — _that_ usually meant that he was well-informed. And his calmness alluded to the contrary. Assuming he hadn't put enough pieces together to make an assumption, she aimed straight for the simple lie. "Oh, we were just ...talking!" she insisted with an easy-going smile, resisting the urge to cringe with guilt.

As much as she hated lying to her father, there was no way in hell she was going to clue him in on the madness that went down tonight. She would rather stomach the irrational lecture she knew she would have to endure for the millionth time.

"Sweetheart. You know the rules. Canoodling is for downstairs only," Carl asserted succinctly, barely tolerant of the fact that she had company when they weren't home at all.

... _Ugh_. And this was the disadvantage of being a cop's daughter. As irritating as it was that he was still treating her like a baby, she knew she had to remain cavalier to uphold the charade while subject to his interrogation. "Daddy, we weren't... _'canoodling'!_ " she insisted with distaste at his choice of words... especially since the verbage was far from accurate. But she couldn't help but also express her stance on the tight ship he ran around here. "And don't you think that's a stupid rule? I'm practically engaged to the guy and I have my other friends up here all the time."

Carl's counter-argument to that was simple. "Your other friends probably can't make you pant as they strut by," he remarked tersely. As much as he liked Stefan, he held onto the sentiment of every father out there who would never get used to the thought of _any_ guy being intimate with their daughters. "And keep in mind, you're not married yet and even then, don't think I'll hesitate to give my trigger finger some practice. I'm a pretty good shot, y'know."

 _Sigh_. Sometimes his overprotective ways just exhausted her. And she was already too mentally spent for this pointless conversation. She had Stefan in her room all the time anyway — he was beating a dead horse here. " _Daaaad_ …" she whined with an irritable roll of her eyes.

"Honey, I get that you're a young woman now," he said, softening compassionately as he walked over to sit on the bed next to her. Swinging an arm around her shoulders, he went on to impart paternal wisdom. "But that's _just_ what I'm afraid of. You have a big future ahead of you — you're still very young and I don't want you making any mistakes you can't reverse."

 _Jeez_ , was he serious? Giving him a dubious sidelong glance as she leaned into his embrace, she simply countered with straightforward rationale. "Dad, c'mon. I'm not _that_ young — I'm twenty years old; you think that I don't know anything about sex?"

There. She said it. And she already felt better when she saw him cringe just by the sound of the word on her lips. In fact, watching him squirm was pretty amusing and she couldn't help but tease him. "Besides, I've heard you and Mom's soundtrack — you're not _nearly_ as sneaky as you think you are," she quipped with an impish smirk. Apparently, he had no idea just _how much_ she knew.

"Laura...!" Carl exclaimed, taken aback by her mischievous remark. Nope, he didn't know... and he didn't _wanna_ know.

"I'm just kidding!" she insisted, giggling as she nuzzled her head against his shoulder apologetically. And it was moments like this when she was in the safety of her Dad's arms that she wished she could tell him everything. But she knew that there were some things a father just needed to stay in the dark about. And this was definitely one of those things.

When she peered up at him again, he still had a skeptical look plastered on his expression. "Dad, I just brought him up here to show him my outfit for our big date next week, that's all. It was no big deal. Nothing happened," she repeated sincerely... and got a bit of inspiration from the lie. Maybe if she said it enough times down the road, she'd begin to believe it herself.

Sighing softly, all Carl could do was brush off his concerns. Besides, his little girl would never do anything that break his trust... in his mind. "Next time, just model for him downstairs. I'm not comfortable with the idea of your boyfriends digging your 'personal spaces' while you're still in this house, okay?" It was either abide by that rule or give her father a heart attack _. Hmm, choices._

She suddenly wished that she had the means to move. _Far, far away._ Drained of the will to rebel any further, she just conceded with a defeated murmur, "...Yeah, all right. Sorry."

"Atta girl," Carl praised her with a warm smile, giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze before landing a kiss against her temple. With that, he stood to part from her and head for the door, bidding her good night as he made his exit.

And by the time the door shut, leaving her isolated in the light-headed fog of her exhaustion, she felt like she'd just swam a mile through quicksand. She probably would have started sobbing had it not been for the fact that she suddenly felt too numb to shed a tear. All she wanted to do now was crawl under her covers and hibernate forever.

Collapsing back onto the bed, she grabbed her comforter and cocooned herself in it, hoping she wouldn't have to see the light of day to face the aftermath of this disaster anytime soon.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 22_


	22. Reality Dosage

_**Chapter 22: Reality Dosage**_

 _Summary: Laura seizes an opportunity to apologize to Steve and they end up taking an unexpected trip down memory lane._

* * *

 _ **THAT WEEKEND…**_

As Laura mindlessly went through the hum-drum motions of her daily routine, she knew that she could no longer stomach her guilt once it had become difficult to look at her own reflection. The more she was confronted with the distress she'd caused in her relationships, the more it became necessary to admonish the hard-headed, self-absorbed little girl she saw pouting at her in the mirror.

A part of her was banking on the hope that she'd be thrown a life raft for her sinking heart in the form of desperate entreaties from the two men in her life. But to her dismay, both of them seemed be breaking habits of their own. Stefan seemed to be actively acknowledging the 'space' she requested by not calling her at all and Steve had been missing in action for days.

At least she didn't have to lie to Stefan anymore. As much as she itched to reach out to him in fear of him slipping away from her permanently, her ripening maturity compelled her to acknowledge the one person who she knew she had neglected the most.

Abandoning her studies that evening, she became determined to seek out Steve in hopes of reconciling the shaky ground their friendship stood on. She was hesitant to see him in fears of her feelings striking up storms of confusion again but she knew that her doubts had to take a back seat if she ever hoped to find redemption in this mess.

After a while of coming up short in his usual hiding spots, her search eventually led her to the University's Science Department where she knew was the only other place he could have disappeared to — either he was hiding in there somewhere or Myra had kidnapped him. Sure enough, she spotted him through the pane glass of the large observation window as she rounded the corner of the hallway.

He was sitting on a stool by one of the stations in his lab coat, gloved and goggled as he tinkered over a row of heated beakers in a tubular chemistry apparatus. She balked just short of reaching for the door, her heart quivering with compassion once she saw the dejected look on his face. There was no need to wonder why he looked so discouraged because she could take a guess. She hadn't seen him since that night but it wasn't hard to deduce why he was avoiding her again. Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and quietly slipped through it.

Her entrance was undetected at first and she took the covert opportunity to observe him as she tried to sift through her racing thoughts for a decent ice breaker, only for her mind to be silenced by the unanticipated jolt of adoration she felt at the very sight of him… a feeling that she was subconsciously starting to welcome more and more. She didn't even realize how much she missed him until she laid eyes on him again. And that's when her mind wandered to briefly to Stefan as she stomached the sickening guilt that came with knowing she almost made a huge mistake with him other night.

Steve was also deeply encumbered by his thoughts, oblivious of her presence as he robotically went through the motions of adjusting the experiment in front of him. He'd been driven into isolation yet again after enduring another bout of emotional ping-pong. It seemed as though his intentions to 'nudge' this debacle into a space of clarity only ended up driving his lady love right back into the arms of his counterpart. Which, when he thought about it, wasn't that surprising — the guy was a walking pheromone and nobody knew that better than him.

At least when he was forced to watch Stefan be Laura's preference in the past, he could fool himself to believe that his own girlfriend was enough to compensate for his bizarre yearnings. But try as he might to make his rebound attempts fulfilling, he was finding out that the more self-aware he became, the nuttier Myra seemed to get.

He found himself starting to sympathize with Laura's years of humoring him. If she had ever been _half_ as irritated with him as he felt with Myra these days, then he had to wonder how she hadn't murdered him by now for pestering her so relentlessly. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he chose to keep his distance over the last few days despite vibrating with the urge to grill her about what he saw the other night … besides, it seemed clear to him who she would ultimately end up choosing in the long run. At this point, he figured that it must have served him right for being so impulsive all of the time.

His gloved hand reached for the dial of one of the Bunsen burners, cranking up the fire beneath one of the beakers as he brushed off the disheartening thought with a dismissive shrug. Even though he was the most willing fool on the planet when it came to Laura, he recognized that he could have been digging himself another hole by making assumptions. The remedy to all of the agonizing uncertainty was still as it had always been: staying busy and out of sight.

Laura scowled with a troubled knit in her brow as she watched him reach for a small vial of cloudy yellow solution peeking out of a bundle of lab supplies on the station. He plucked the tube from it, lifting it eye-level between his thumb and forefinger to examine it. And she was disquieted as her intuition clued her in what he was doing. Just as he was about to carefully pour the solution into one of the boiling beakers, her voice timidly ripped through the tense silence. "…Steve?"

 _Flinch!_ "Laura —!" he yelped in surprise as his goggled gaze swiveled in her direction, startled by her sudden appearance. And when he violently recoiled, the flammable solution flew out of the vial and splashed all over his station. With the licking flames of the burners exposed to the chemicals, the apparatus sizzled in a cloud of thick yellow smoke before igniting a blue-tinted blaze that erupted towards the ceiling in a raging pillar of fire.

"WHOOO-AAAAHH!" he exclaimed as the heat of the flames nearly singed his nose clean off his face and he stumbled back from the station in a flailing frenzy of panic, the stool tumbling from underneath him.

Well, that was a hell of a greeting. Shocked by the intensity of heat, Laura was shoved backwards into the wall as her arms lifted to shield her face from the blast. As Steve made himself completely useless by fruitlessly waving and blowing at the angry flames, she rushed for the fire extinguisher next to her on the wall after a stutter-brained pause. Carefully handing it off to Steve, he managed to pull the pin and smother the flames just before the fire had the potential to become un-tamable, thankfully saving them both from being soaked by the sprinklers… or sent to early graves in a trial by fire.

…And _that_ was why he constantly urged people to never utter a sound while he was pouring. "D'ohhh, _great_ …" he whined ruefully as he removed his goggles to examine the damage of his ruined station, craning his neck to scrutinize the black soot spot left on the ceiling by the fire, grumbling to himself. An angry Science Department was the last thing he needed right now.

"…Is this a bad time?" Laura asked tentatively as she cringed with the regret of startling him. Watching as he set the extinguisher down, she began to doubt her intentions to will away the tension between them… because walking right into an explosion was never a good omen.

"Not unless you have an extra pair of eyebrows I could borrow," Steve retorted dryly, pressing his fingertips to his brows to make sure they were still there. With a sigh, he swatted away the foggy, yellow haze that filled the lab as he stepped over to a switch by the wall that would vent the gases from the room before they could suffocate. Proactively avoiding her gaze, he began to wordlessly pick up the remnants of shattered glass from the beakers that combusted in the fire and tossed them into a nearby garbage drum.

And the silence that lingered was… uncomfortable. Laura quickly realized that it was because he was usually bursting at the seams to tell her what new fan-dangled idea he had in the works. But she shouldn't have been surprised by her uneasiness considering that the lopsided dynamic of their relationship had been off for months now and there was no telling what impression she'd left on him the other night. Acknowledging her responsibility in mending her screw-ups, she decided to be the initiator for once as she cautiously approached him. "What are you up to?"

"Huh?" Becoming distracted as her question broke the silence, Steve looked up from his assiduous attempt to stay preoccupied with cleaning. "Oh, n-nothing, nothing —" he began insisting just as he inattentively plucked the garbage bag out of the drum by the wrong end, the remnants of glass to spilling out onto the floor at the bag was accidentally inverted. A dispirited moment of silence settled upon them where neither of them could do much but mourn the even bigger mess now littering the lab.

And all Laura could do was silently commiserate his troubles as she watched him succumb to his poor coordination in defeat. Once upon a time, she would have been barking at him for being so clumsy by now but all she felt in that moment was sympathy.

After a beat of sulking, he dropped the bag apathetically and peered at her to address her question. "…Just working out a few modifications on-on… s-some _… stuff_ ," he stuttered tentatively, unsure of whether or not he should clue her in on his activities this time — it hardly made any difference the last time.

But her gut told her what he was up to the moment she spotted that vial and his reluctance only confirmed her initial suspicions. Deciding not to even acknowledge the bush of denial standing in her way, she decided right then and there that she would have to challenge every fear she'd encountered since this whole debacle was set in motion… and that included the idea that Steve had finally reached his limit. "…That was it, wasn't it?" she asked morosely, well aware that she had encouraged him to step off of that ledge in the first place.

"What?" he asked guilelessly, feigning ignorance as he was put on the spot.

"Y'know. The potion you told me about…" she replied timidly, trying her best to remained dignified in light of the implications, though secretly tormented by the fact that she had driven him to this. "…Whadd'ya call it?" she asked out of curiosity.

…Okay, well, since she guessed correctly on the first try, there was no point in deferring the truth any further. So Steve just shrugged in surrender, his shoulders carrying the weight of his despondency once there was no longer any need to hide it. "Achy-Breaky Brew. Patent no longer pending — it's up in flames now," he lamented with a roll of his eyes as he pulled his gloves from his hands and irritably tossing them into the glass pile.

She knew it. And she stewed in her disappointment, giving her head a few rueful shakes as she internally berated herself. She still couldn't get used the fact how not even a year ago, she wouldn't have cared less. But now? She still couldn't pinpoint when exactly the thought of not being adored by him anymore made her feel like the scum of the earth. The worst part was that she knew that she never deserved his reverence to such a degree in the first place.

But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't glad that she walked in just in the nick of time. As unsure as she still was about their future as friends or otherwise, she was starting to see the phenomenal value of his unconditional love and didn't want to let his respect slip through her fingers.

"…Are you gonna use it?" By her tone and sheepish squirming, it was clear that she was afraid to ask. As if looking for a reason to avoid the answer, her gaze fell to the ground as she awaited the justified maiming of her ego.

But she was in luck since Steve's intentions weren't as nefarious as she assumed. "Actually, that was my last sample. Eddo asked me for it." More like _begged_ him. "Apparently, Myrtle is all over him like cheap cologne." A part of him was relieved that he never found the courage to use it himself. But the scientist in him was disturbed that the marvel of such a breakthrough would never have the chance to be completely cultivated. "Looks like he'll just have to pick her off the old-fashioned way now."

At least he could spot the silver lining of the loss. It would have been interesting to see the full effects of the formula but if results hadn't panned out by now after being on the ledge with it for months, then there was a good chance it wasn't meant to be to begin with, just as Carl had once warned him. But before he could contemplate any further, his brows knitted suspiciously once he realized she must've been reading _his_ mind now. "But…how'd you know I was working with the Brew?"

"Lucky guess," Laura replied with a shrug of her own, hiding the relief that came with seeing his true intentions. So relieved that she couldn't help but tease him, a knowing smirk springing to her lips. "You've never looked that depressed near a chemistry set before."

Steve just gave a defeated nod in acknowledgment, swelling with regret over the lackluster results of his own actions thus far. "…Good point." Maybe if he hadn't tried to puppeteer his way to victory, he wouldn't have had to stomach another blow of disappointment in the first place. He had a little growing up to do himself, it seemed.

Now that the smoke had cleared, he suddenly realized that Laura Winslow had willingly come to his lab without invitation. Talk about out of the ordinary. His first impulse was to ask her what she was doing here since she rarely visited him unless she really had something to say.

But the moment he allowed himself to marvel at her beauty, his remorse over the shenanigans of the other night overruled his curiosity altogether. He expected himself to carry some sort of resentment the next time he saw her but it didn't surprise him that it was almost impossible to look at her without becoming a helpless victim to his profound weakness for her. Moreso than usual.

As much as he was itching to ask her for absolutes, he knew doing so probably wouldn't bring her any closer to choosing him… as evidenced by the heartbreaking spectacle he witnessed the other night, which he hid away in the back of his mind. He followed the impulse to get his regret off of his chest instead.

"Actually, Laura… I'm glad you stopped by," he said solemnly as he took a few sedated steps in her direction to address the elephant in the room …which always seemed to be lurking in the corner during their interactions lately. "I owe you an apology for what happened the other night —"

"No-no, please don't apologize. I had it coming," she countered firmly, refusing to allow him to blame himself this time… and never in a million years did she think she would be begging him not to appease her. And her own contrition became evident in her eyes as she peered at him. "I understand why you did it. Everything that's happened is all my fault anyway. I'm the one who should apologize."

Predictably, it was difficult to convince him that he wasn't the culprit. Old habits die hard. "But you trusted me to keep my big mouth shut!" he insisted dolefully, sauntering towards the stool to pick it off the floor and set it upright so that he could plop onto it. He pitifully sank his chin into his palm as he leaned forward against the surface of the station on his elbows. "I guess I just figured if we got it all out in the open —"

"Steve, you don't have to explain yourself. It was always up to me to just.. be honest. And I wasn't. So you did what you had to do," she lamented, amazed that he was still so receptive to her after the hoops of fire she had him hopping through… unlike Stefan, who had chewed her out until kingdom come. She still felt a little butt-hurt by the things he'd said to her.

With that in mind, it once again became clear to her why it had always been so easy talk to Steve. She also recognized that this fact made it that much easier to remain accountable. "You were never responsible for my feelings… or the way I handled them," she admitted, casting a daunting shadow of self-loathing onto her own character. "That's why even if you did use this 'brew'… well, I can't say I'd blame you. You have every right to feel this way. I know I've been a terrible friend to you. Actually, I'm a little surprised you haven't tried this sooner."

 _Oh?_ Well, _that_ was a new one. Steve's brows perked in surprise as he peered over to her dubiously. Seemed like she was always blaming him for something, even though it was like second nature to welcome any and all blame if it meant shouldering the stress for her in some way. But the curveballs kept coming and he watched in awe as she stepped into her faults with zero excuses for the first time since he'd known her.

"Well… that's the _thing_ , sweetums. These past few months, you've been a dream come true!" he bellyached at the irony. Even though she still had a habit of disregarding him, the little attention he did receive from her were the most fulfilling moments of his life… which made the fall back to Earth a lot harder when reality hit. "To tell you the truth, I'd rather hang myself with my own intestines than to use that doggone potion now."

She scowled in confusion as she rewinded the past few months in her head and put herself in his shoes… and for the life of her, she couldn't comprehend his perspective on that. "…I have? Then… what made you wanna go this far in the first place?" she asked with a curious cant of her head.

The truth was, he'd been quite content just living in his delusional little bubble all of these years. And then, all of a sudden, that bubble burst and the delusion became …real. And his desperation took on an entirely new face as a result. The more he thought about it, the more pathetic he felt about being so blindly entangled in his fantasy.

"Actually… it's not the first time I've thought of something like this," he confessed pitifully, his pensive gaze wandering as he recalled the exact moment he came up with the idea many years ago. The Brew's inception, as well as it's Woo-Woo Juice counterpart, had started far earlier than she even realized — way before he even had the means to start experimenting like a madman. "Why, just thinking about going through with it is just like the third grade all over again!"

… _Huh?_ Caught off guard by the vague left turn their conversation took, her curious stare persisted, as did her confusion. She took a step closer to him, her brows lifting inquisitively. "…The third grade?"

And the moment Steve alluded to the unpleasant catalyst of his experiments, he regretted it. So he just shook his head and instantly became irritated with himself for bringing it up. "Oh, nevermind," he grumbled with a dismissive swat of his hand. "It's not important."

"Isn't it?" Laura probed gently, becoming more and more unsatisfied that she didn't have a clear enough picture here. She knew it had something to do with her — they had been in the some of the same classes ever since kindergarten all the way up until their senior year of high school. …She couldn't remember the last time she was this curious about him, either.

…And Steve couldn't remember the last time she expressed so much interest in his point of view. But as tempting as it was to satisfy her curiosity, he was hesitant to recap what he preferred not to think about ever again. "It's in the past now. I don't expect you to remember anyway."

But to his surprise, she not only persevered in her attempts to get him to divulge, but he could feel open-hearted empathy just radiating off of her as she calmly closed the remaining gap between them. Grabbing another stool from the station, she sat down next to him and faced him to grant him her full attention. "Try me."

He couldn't help but shoot her a skeptical quirk of his brow. But when he looked her way, he could've melted with candy-coated bliss under her soft, compassionate scrutiny. Her humble poise and the sincerity in her eyes almost made her unrecognizable after years of rarely experiencing her humility — it was like confessing to an angel. Instantly hypnotized by her alluring proximity, what choice did he have but to comply?

Calmly straightening his posture as his hands slowly fell away from his chin, he reluctantly began to recount the memory as his gaze wandered introspectively. "Well... when we were in the third grade, I was caught with this really obscene note about our teacher at the time, Miss Hicks. It had all of these vulgar and disgusting phrases about her written on it that I would have _never_ dreamed of —"

"A note that _I_ put on your desk…right?" Laura interjected as clarity of the memory in question snuck up on her like a bolt of lightening. "Wow, I haven't thought about that in years…" she murmured wistfully as her own gaze wandered, internally admonishing the selfish mindset of her eight-year-old self. Her arms gathered around her waist as if to console herself, cowering under the disgrace looming over her like an all-mighty evil-eye in the sky.

"Well, yeah…" Steve confirmed sheepishly, a little surprised that she remembered considering that he distinctly recalled her apathetic response to the whole scandal at the time. "The depressing part about it was that I was so excited at first. You never passed me notes!"

"Oh, yeah… I remember that was the year that you followed me everywhere I went…" she mused with a slow, nostalgic nod, her gaze finding the black soot ring on the ceiling to wistfully paint the memory on it.

He didn't just pop up at house unannounced like he did when they got older — he was literally _everywhere_ back then. She distinctly recalled that she would have done anything to get him off of her tail when his stalking had gotten to the point where he'd pop up at every corner she turned like a jack-in-the-box magician. And it drove her up the wall.

"By the time I saw what it was, Miss Hicks caught me with it and made me read it in front of the entire class," he recalled woefully, becoming forlorn as he was forced to relive one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. And that was saying a lot for a guy who was known as a walking tornado. "I could've told her the truth. That it was you who wrote it. But I didn't want you to get in trouble so …I took the bullet." And became a proverbial doormat for the rest of his life, apparently.

…Wow, that probably made him the most generous, selfless eight-year-old that ever lived. Of course, there was no way Laura's juvenile mind could wrap itself around the nature of his benevolence at that age. The idea that Steve had always been her most loyal friend was barely beginning to stick at twenty years old.

And she turned her nose up as it occurred to her that _she_ , on the other hand, used to be an _evil_ little heifer! …Actually, in light of her recent blunders, she questioned the 'used to' part. As it dawned on her that things hadn't changed that much after all, she just deflated with a heavy, regretful sigh. "Right… and you were suspended for three days. I was more excited than a pig in slop…" she confessed shamefully, her disheartened tone contradicting to the exhilaration she remembered.

"Naturally," Steve quipped listlessly. Maybe he wasn't completely useless after all — making her happy always seemed to involve getting rid of him in some way. Needless to say, he did the task justice that day in particular.

Laura found herself searching for the exact motive for maliciously green-lighting his demise back then …well, besides the fact that it was beneficial to her peace of mind. Despite how annoyed she used to get with him, it didn't seem to be quite her style to deliberately push him overboard since she was an even bigger 'goody-two-shoes' in her adolescent days. _Nah._ She was more of the type to hog all the space on the lifeboat while he was drowning instead.

And so when it dawned in her memory how the scandal kicked off, she felt compelled to explain herself. Somehow, it seemed necessary that he knew her intentions, even though she couldn't turn back the hands of time. "I wasn't the one who wrote that note, y'know," she said meekly, trying to stay clear of the line drawn between explanations and excuses. If nothing else, she could offer up a frame of the bigger picture, which she knew would never be enough to pay him back.

"Oh?" His looked at her inquisitively, slightly relieved that his assumption had been wrong. He never did want to believe that she had been _that_ cold-hearted.

"Actually, I don't know _who_ did," she admitted pensively as she replayed that fateful day in her head. "As far as I know, it was just a running joke in class that day. Somebody passed it to me and it freaked me out. You sat right next to me so my first reaction was to toss it on your desk before I could be seen with it. I wasn't trying to get you in trouble on purpose."

But in her heart of hearts, she knew that her appeal meant nothing and her shame was further broadened by Steve's grievances with it. "But you just sat there, Laura! When Miss Hicks asked us about it, you didn't hesitate to blame me!"

"…Naturally," she droned with a guilty cringe at his reprimand, smacked in the face with her own hypocrisy yet again. Even if she hadn't tried to be mischievous, she certainly didn't regret the fact that he took the heat for her… at the time, that is. Now she felt like stabbing herself in the ear with a rusty ice-pick. Deflating from the inside-out with remorse, she just shook her head as she lamented at just how hurtful that must've been for him. "I heard you got in big trouble with your Dad, too," she murmured reflectively, becoming quite irritated with her younger self for being such a formidable little jerk.

"'Big trouble'?" Steve parroted dubiously, almost offended by the inaccuracy of that description. "I didn't live that one down for nearly a year! My father nearly skinned me alive that night! He hit me so hard that —" _Pause!_ Wide-eyed, he fettered his flapping chops, quickly retracting the spilt beans with a hesitant stammer. "I-I… I mean…"

… _Whoa-whoa, hold the phone!_ "…What?" Laura's gaze lifted abruptly, her eyes darkening with concern as she stared at him with disturbed scowl, immediately alarmed by what she thought she just heard. And she didn't hesitate to make sure she wasn't deaf, probing him barely above a horrified whisper. "Your father used to… _hit_ you?" The notion was so terribly sobering that it felt like someone knocked the wind right out of her. Talk about a bombshell!

 _Aw, doggone it to heck._ Having said way too much, Steve's first impulse was to flee the pressure and so he pushed himself to stand from his stool to briskly step away from her and the station, his flesh sizzling with anxiety as he desperately tried to detach himself from the conversation altogether. "Ehh… I don't really wanna talk about this anymore..." he murmured in embarrassment as he tried to escape her troubled gaze. No point in exhuming a dead issue. Besides, the thought of ever telling _anybody_ his deepest, darkest secret made him feel a little nauseous.

" _Wait a minute_ , that's what you said, isn't it?" Laura grilled earnestly before he could run too far for cover, hopping off of the stool to follow behind him as he paced towards the opposite end of the lab. If he thought he was going to get away with that slip, he was dead wrong. But she treaded lightly as she approached him, staring at his back as he tried to dismiss the issue. "…That your father hit you?"

Steve shook his head fervently as he busied himself with tossing his undamaged supplies into a cardboard box. "I didn't say a darn thing!"

"Yes you did, I heard you!" she pried, her tone unintentionally defensive since it never took this much to get answers out of him before. But in a moment where her curiosity was kindling, it didn't occur to her that the circumstances were quite different this time around.

"Well, un-hear it!" he snapped irritably, abruptly abandoning the menial task to spin towards her as he abrasively tried to dissuade her prodding. "I said I don't wanna talk about this anymore!"

 _Blink_. She couldn't help but recoil with a step backward as she scowled at him, caught off guard by his rankled response… it was always a little jolting whenever Steve expressed his anger. But she immediately softened when she realized that maybe she was being a little insensitive.

Normally she would honor anyone's desire to steer clear of such a personal issue but for some reason, she just couldn't stand down with only meager crumbs to satisfy her curiosity. And so she took a gentler approach, stepping towards him again to calmly grab his hand in both of hers, appealing to him softly, "Steve …it's okay. You can tell me."

Steve was vibrating with agitation at the very thought of unveiling his dark side to her and he had every intention of standing on his stubborn resistance… that is, until she grabbed his hand, which was pretty shocking to him and he couldn't help but stare at the grip she had on it. And his crankiness melted off of him almost instantly. Maybe she really _was_ warming up to him…

But the moment his memories reached the forefront of his mind, he felt revolted by the thought of ever letting his monstrous past out of its cage. "Oh, you don't wanna know, Laura…" he whimpered pitifully with a despondent shake of his head. "What good would it do, anyway?"

"You never know," she replied softly, aching with compassion. If nothing else, he could find closure in finally getting it off of his chest. By the unnerved look in his eyes, she could tell he needed it. "Please?" And her hands tightened around his, silently coaxing him to trust her… which she knew was a luxury she barely deserved at this point. Interestingly enough, for the first time since she realized her feelings for him, she wasn't focused on how odd it was to be so open with him in that moment. In fact, she welcomed it.

As for Steve… he felt stuck between a rock and harder rock and he took a deep breath as he mulled over his nightmarish memories. On the one hand, he'd been dying to let anyone with open ears know what happened to him in those years. And on the other, he felt himself beginning to unravel with fear. Laura's brow knitted in concern when she felt his hand beginning to tremble in her grip, which tightened compassionately… maybe he needed to just hold onto her while he choked on his story and so she tugged him back towards the station where they sat beside each other on the stools. And she turned to him to listen intently.

"…He… well, h-he's a brilliant guy," he began reluctantly, suddenly feeling unworthy of her gaze and he looked away in shame, becoming meek as his shoulders slumped. "In fact, he's one of the smartest men I've ever known. He taught me a lot and I admired him. And all I ever wanted to do was make him proud. But… he's always been a pretty stern fellow. And angrier than the Devil's pitbull almost constantly. I never knew why. All I knew was that I could never satisfy him." As was the case with most people in his life. He paused to catch his wits before confessing as evenly as possible, "That day, when he found out what happened at school… he… he hit me so hard that he …knocked out one of my baby teeth. My glasses snapped in half right on my face and cut me up pretty good, too. Took a while to stop the bleeding…" Oh, the bleeding. He remembered a lot of _that_ happening.

…And Laura's jaw dropped as if it was unscrewed from her skull. _"…What?"_ she gasped softly, a spooked chill shooting up her spine, almost crippling her with disbelief.

But he continued before he was forced to elaborate, gracefully skipping over gorier details. "Then he destroyed my prize bug collection and threatened to ship me off to military school if I ever got in trouble in school again. I don't remember much of what happened after that except that it was the first time I learned about the handiness of duct tape." Because a blind boy still needed to see, shattered glasses and all.

Laura's gaze wandered pensively, her expression marred with absolute revulsion as she was forced to swallow the horror of the details …Just where the hell was _she_ when all of this was happening?! …Or, more importantly, "…Where was your mother?!" she asked with a disgusted grimace.

"Basking in her glorious depression," Steve replied somberly, giving her a dry shrug as his chin fell in his hand, his opposite hand beginning to sweat in her grip. "There were times when my mom would hold me down while my father took his anger out on me. And if she didn't do it, then he'd turned all of his rage on her. Especially when I grew taller than him and he couldn't hurt me as much anymore. She was the one that banished me to the dungeon when she didn't wanna deal with me."

"...The 'dungeon'?" she parroted with perplexity.

"That's what I called our basement before I made it useful," he said, giving her a sage nod before dropping his gaze back to their hands. Somehow, her grip was the only thing keeping him hinged in one of the most vulnerable moments of his life. Relaying the depressing tale became easier and easier. "All the way until I was twelve, whenever they grounded me, I slept down there on the cold, damp concrete in a sleeping bag, sometimes for months at a time. I was down there so much that I just decided to turn it into a lab and I stayed out of sight for the most part."

For some reason, he felt compelled to toss her a little-known tidbit about himself… a seemingly trivial tidbit no one ever thought to ask about him. "Why do you think I like cheese so much? Me and the mice that I trained down there used to play poker and we anted up with brie and cheddar! Because, well… sometimes… that's all I had for dinner…" That and whatever few scraps he could find for sustenance. His mother rarely cooked and when she did, it was usually the likes of raw fish and stale bread that he ended up growing a taste for. It certainly explained his extremely bizarre food choices.

"Oh, Steve…that's… _horrible_ …" Laura commiserated softly, agonized by the torment he must've experienced. And she realized for the first time that there had been a rhyme and reason for everything he did ever since they were kids. And after years of assuming the opposite, that notion was staggering.

"Most of the time, I was treated more like a… like a pet than a son." Gulping down his apprehensive, his gaze lifted to her the first time since he started his story, his eyes and his tone filled with buckets of regret. "But the absolute worst part was… sometimes I came to school covered in bruises and you didn't even notice. Nobody did."

And that's when the times she'd spot said bruises became clear in her memory…. she also remembered not really caring. "…You're wrong, y'know. I _did_ notice but we were just kids; I didn't know what it meant. I just assumed it was because you couldn't stop running into things." It was an innocent assumption — he'd been as graceful as a wingless penguin with one foot for as long as she'd known him.

"'Things' being the ol' Herb Urkel back-hand," Steve retorted bitterly. " _You_ try being near-sighted _and_ dizzy almost everyday and see if you don't hug a few obstacles along the way. Unfortunately… I haven't been able to stop running into walls ever since." Literally and figuratively.

 _Jeez_ … the joke was certainly on her because when she thought about how jolly he was all of the time, there was no way in hell that she could have guessed this was going on behind the mysterious walls of the Urkel household all of this time. He must have learned how to hide his neglect at a very young age in fear of being punished even more.

In that moment of profound clarity, so many obscure things about him suddenly came into focus… as did the disconnects she used to have about certain observations she used to dismiss in her self-absorption. It was as if years of ugly, hidden truth had avalanched, abruptly filling up the holes of her disjointed recollection. "…So… that time you broke your arm…? And all those times you came to class that year limping with a stomach-ache wasn't because the eight-graders jumped you, was it?"

And to that, Steve only had one thing to say, becoming candidly wistful. "Good ol' Pops. For such a small man, he was a heavy-handed son-of-a-gun…" he murmured with a rueful shake of his head.

"Oh my… _God_ …" she gasped softly as her hand clasped over her mouth, completely unhinged by the thought that he was reared so savagely. And to think that she used to assume he was exaggerating whenever he'd hint at just how neglectful his parents were. "I had no idea…" she whispered to herself… boy, she sure felt like an ass right about now.

And he never expected to give her any ideas either. He had every intention of holding onto that twisted secret until his very last breath. But he also hadn't anticipated that the love of his life would eventually show interest in knowing the darker side of his reality. It was a lot to expect considering that his own parents didn't even acknowledge him. He'd gotten quite used to being treated like a spineless, disposable sack of meat over the years.

"I always knew that I was the bane of their existence," he continued reflectively, giving a dismissive shrug. "Whenever they fought, it was usually because of me. It was so chaotic that I just… tried to stay away from home as much as I could." And the rest is history. It had never been clearer to Laura why it was always so hard to get rid of him growing up. He'd been desperate for acknowledgement. "I miss them sometimes… other times, I'm glad that they left. At least they have a chance to be happy without me now."

And vise versa. Ironically, he still respected his parents greatly and so he would never admit that he was much happier without them. If they never left, he probably wouldn't have been able to stay with a _real_ family who really did love each other. The positive example the Winslows impressed upon him had been extremely rejuvenating over the years.

The thing that disturbed her more than anything was that she couldn't recall ever being curious or concerned about what went on in his house… and she instantly regretted every single time the words 'Go home, Steve' came out of her big, dumb mouth. No wonder he always blamed himself. He was conditioned to be a foot stool by the two people who were supposed to care about him the most.

And she could barely stomach the idea that she'd taken advantage of stepping on him at every turn. Falling into stunned silence, she could feel her sympathy and guilt swell so intensely that she was seconds away from bursting into tears. But she swallowed them back with a sniffle, refusing to make this moment about her.

"…Steve," she began softly, struggling to keep her voice from wavering as she looked at him like the misunderstood enigma he suddenly became. She felt her feelings beginning to run deeper than ground water. "As long as I've known you, I can't believe that I never knew you were… _abused_."

It occurred to her that she never even had a face-to-face interaction with his parents… like, ever. In a lot of ways, they had been like ghosts haunting the house next door. The lights were always on through their windows but it always felt as if there were no souls at home… and now she knew why. It was mind-blowing to her that she hadn't paid any attention to the clues… and she couldn't help but wonder why he kept it to himself all of these years. "How come you've never told me about this?"

"You wouldn't have believed me," Steve replied sullenly and gave her a skeptical sidelong glance. "Besides, should you knowing about that make any difference?"

…Both very good points. Her curiosity silenced by the succinct dose of reality he handed her, she just averted her eyes shamefully to the floor, "…No. You're right. It shouldn't," she conceded meekly… before it occurred to her that he never really answered the original question that got them into this waltz down memory lane to begin with. "But... I don't get it," she said with a scowl of confusion. "What does any of that have to do with this potion you created?"

"Well…" he murmured reflectively, reluctant to peel his hand out of her grip as he reflected on her question and yet compelled to standing from the stool to pace around the lab in deep thought. "After I got suspended, my Dad had me peeing down my leg so I avoided you like the plague. I forced myself to not even look your way anymore… which got easier since you treated me like I was invisible for the next few years anyway." Stepping to a large insect display on the wall, he stared at the fascinating, lifeless creatures pensively, trying not to choke on his words. "And… it was the most painful thing I'd ever gone through. Nothing my parents ever did to me could compare. That was the _only_ time in my life that I truly gave up on you. And for a time... everything felt so hopeless that I questioned whether or not I could go on at all." But he didn't dare go into details about his many flubbed suicide attempts in those years... just thinking about those depressing memories left him breathless with anxiety.

And it was a good thing he didn't because she just may have started bawling her eyes out. "Oh…" was all she could really utter, humbled into speechlessness as she suddenly felt cold without the warm touch of his hand in hers. His sudden surrender after that one fateful event in Miss Hick's class sharpened in her mind and she remembered how relieved she was that he'd stopped following her. Not once did she even consider the why, the what, or the consequences of that phenomenon. She couldn't believe she even had the capacity to be so ruthlessly selfish.

"So… in junior high, when I had another chance, it was like divine intervention!" Steve continued, turning to face her as he petitioned his stance, "I swore to myself that I would _never_ give up again, no matter how much you rejected me. But recently… I started doubting everything."

"…Because of how I've misled you. Right?" Laura asked timidly, well-aware that her fickle cycle of denial was the main culprit of his confusion. She'd kiss him only to deny him. She'd tell him she cared only to act like she didn't. And in some ways, she was just as neglectful to him as his parents had been… and she couldn't have possibly felt worse about it. And it amazed her that he was willing to go to such extravagant lengths to prove his devotion, even going so far as manufacturing her boyfriend, and yet all she had the nerve to think about was herself… she suddenly hoped her mother was cooking crow for dinner tonight. She couldn't help but clutch her stomach as it felt it churn in disgust for herself.

Steve just nodded as his gaze lowered again, trying not to let his guilt over his impulse to create the Brew consume his self-deprecating rationale. "And on top of everything, I saw how much I was hurting Myra — the only person in this world whose actually crazy enough to love me." She _must've_ been crazy since every 'sane' person in his life seemed to share the same perspective and she was the lone rebel.

But Laura wanted to rebuke that claim like a devout zealot and proclaim how Myra wasn't the only nutty one in this equation… though all she could do was gnaw on her tongue in silence as he vented. She recognized that she never had the right to invalidate his experiences, especially not right now while he was pouring his heart out.

"It got to the point where I wasn't sure if I could bare the shame of being a star-struck idiot over you anymore," he continued with a sullen shrug. After everything was said and done, he had been brought to one logically-sound course of action: "I figured if I ever did have to stop loving you… might as well make it a lot less painful than the first time." And it was certainly easier to execute now that he had access to dangerous chemicals — the idea had been nothing more than an adolescent dream when he first thought up the potion. "I didn't even think it was possible to get to that point again until… well, you know what happened next…" he trailed off softly, running out of the wits he needed to narrate his feelings, avoiding her disquieted scrutiny as he stared at the floor.

And Laura was so distraught by his tale that she felt like she'd been run over by a bus. Her body felt weak with remorse and try as she might, she couldn't stop a tear from streaming down her face, quickly catching it with her sleeve as she weathered the heavy, solemn silence that fell between them. "Oh, Steve…" she sighed in an inaudible whisper, wishing she could run into her past and smack the hell out of her younger self.

He wasn't sure why, but despite the waves of anxiety he was feeling, he suddenly felt a hundred times lighter now that he had exposed himself to her. And to his surprise, she _actually_ listened to him… this day was one for the history books. But before he could chew on that marvelous morsel, he was invaded by her alluring proximity as she closed the gap between them and before he knew it, he was being gathered in her embrace, her arms apologetically slinking around his neck.

… _Whoa, mama._ He hadn't been expecting her affection but he certainly didn't deny it! Hesitantly, his arms slowly wrapped around her waist, pausing with uncertainty for a split second before hugging her tightly in return… and he deflated against her in utter relief. He seriously could have died a happy man right then as her sweet aroma filled his nostrils. Nothing was better than a hug from Laura Winslow. Sometimes, that's all he ever wanted from her to feel complete.

"I'm _sooo_ sorry," she whispered to him with a sniffle as she gave him a consoling rub on his back. "I want you to know that what happened to you —"

"Laura…" he interrupted her sternly as a familiar twinge of anticipated disappointment soured his gut, well aware that he was gambling with his common sense — this easily could have been one of those precious moments she'd just claim to forget the next day. Considering how emotionally exhausted he suddenly felt, he didn't have the strength to stomach another letdown. And so he gently leaned back out of her embrace to solemnly meet her misty-eyed gaze. "…You don't have to do that. I've never let it keep me down before. Anyway, it happened a long time ago. I don't need your pity anymore —"

"This isn't pity, Steve. Not this time," she interjected softly with a defiant shake of her head before he could minimize himself and her efforts to acknowledge him. If nobody but Myra recognized just how incredible he was as a person, then his one-member fan club just gained a new applicant. She had a lot of catching up to do if she ever hoped to make this up to him… it was just a shame that _this_ is what it took for her to finally feel like she understood him.

Her hands landed on his shoulders as they peeled apart slightly, firmly reassuring him. "What happened to you wasn't your fault. You never deserved to be violated like that… least of all, by _me_. I can't believe how stupid I must've been to put you in that position… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for this now."

"That's why I never wanted to speak of it!" he insisted with a disillusioned frown. "I never wanted you to beat yourself up about this, sweetums."

"But ignorance isn't an excuse," she replied solemnly, finally understanding why her parents always tried to drill that life lesson into her head over the years. And right now, she considered treating him like yesterday's trash was the biggest mistake she'd ever made. Had she known about his neglect when they were younger, she probably would have told her father, who certainly wouldn't have sat around and let him be abused. They could have done something about it a long time ago… alas, there were no re-dos in life. "Like you just said, I shouldn't _have_ to know that to have the decency to treat you like a human being. I was careless and extremely selfish. And… I know it probably doesn't mean much now, but I really am sorry that I wasn't there for you. Especially when you needed me the most."

 _Well, gee_. Steve was rendered speechless, destroyed by the contrition in her glossy eyes, listening intently as her hands gently slid off of her shoulders to clasp in front of her. His own hands bashfully fell away from her waist.

"But that's gonna change, starting right now," she said with a determined twinkle in her eye, "I know it's hard to believe but you _do_ mean a lot to me, Steve. I really mean that. And I hope I can make this up to you one day."

…. _Awww_. His heart couldn't help but swell with joy, a humble smile emerging from his sullen expression. It was if her words revitalized him and he visibly relaxed. "…Thank you, Laura. I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me… sober."

"And I promise I won't pretend to forget," she said sincerely as she extended an olive branch, reaching out to rub of his arm affectionately. "I don't want you to forget it either, okay?"

…Uh, did she know who she was talking to here? "…Never," he replied breathlessly, his own determination knitting his brows as he charged by her touch alone. And he was compelled to step towards her again, leaving barely an inch between them as their gazes met… and got stuck, apparently.

It was like they were shot by a freeze-ray. They stared motionlessly and wordlessly into each others eyes as the air around them buzzed with electricity. It wasn't until Laura felt herself starting to get lost in the entrancing soul she saw behind the lenses of his glasses did she snap out of her paralysis, blinking out of her daze and gently retreating from him. Steve, on the other hand, was frozen in the spot he was stuck in, staring at her like the most coveted gem in existence.

"Uh… It's getting late," she said as she bashfully stepped away from him. Lifting a hand to rub the back of her neck, she sheepishly averted her eyes in hopes that he didn't see her cheeks flush beet red. Good thing the mess of the lab came into her peripherals — it became the perfect distraction. "Here, lemme help you clean this up," she murmured as she began to lean over to pick up the fallen garbage bag.

And when he saw her begin to tidy up, he snapped out of his daze as well with a few blinks, speculating for a brief second whether the intense spark he just felt between them was his imagination or not. Shaking off the awe, he pushed his glasses up on his nose and stepped to her to retrieve the bag from her and toss it back into the drum, "Oh, no need, babycakes. The janitors here know me pretty well — they'll get the message."

That made sense. Nodding, she sheepishly busied her hands with fidgeting instead to counter the awkward tension she felt lingering in the air.

After a beat of uncertainty, she became very aware that she didn't want to recess his company just yet ... but she didn't necessarily want to stay here either. "Well, I was headed home if you want a ride. Maybe we could… watch a movie or something," she offered meekly, still a little squirmy at the uncertainty that came with renewing the way she saw their friendship. But she was grateful that it somehow managed to remain standing after everything. She decided right then that her feelings could no longer be a deciding factor in how they moved forward friends, first and foremost.

 _Say what?_ Struck with the unexpected yet again, Steve's brow twitched in surprise. Was she really asking him to spend time with her? "…Why, abso-toot-a-lutely!" he chirped with excitement, not hesitating to take her up on that offer.

Smiling graciously as she felt a warm sense of calm soothe her guilt, Laura led the way towards the exit of the lab. And as he began to follow her out of the door, he paused just short of walking out behind her to express his gratitude. "Laura…?"

"Yeah?" she asked as she halted her exit to turn towards him.

"...I've never told anybody about that before. Not even Myra. Thanks for listening to me." Gratified, he smiled softly. Somehow, he was still shocked by her attentiveness even though he'd finally experienced it on a transcendental level. She was officially the only person in the world that really knew him and he had to wonder what kind of sign from God that had to be.

"Thank _you_ for sharing, Steve," she replied just as graciously. It was odd… even though she'd known him all of her life, she suddenly felt as if she were talking to a completely different person. And she acknowledged that he was about ten times hotter as a result... but she kept that little jewel all to herself... for now. "Besides, you've always been there for me. It's time I returned the favor."

Looping her arm loosely through his, they walked through the threshold of the lab and out into the hallway side-by-side... and Steve was convinced he'd have to have surgery to get that dumb grin off of his face.

* * *

 _ **A COUPLE HOURS LATER...**_

"Whew, what a day..." Harriette sighed in exhaustion with a pitiful shake of her head as she strolled through the front door of the house about ten minutes after eight o'clock, which was a stretch in her schedule. All she needed now was a hot meal and a bath... too bad she was the one that had to cook it.

At least the house was quiet, which was the first thing she noticed as she removed her amber scarf from her neck and shrugged her purple blazer off of her shoulders. Taking her keys, she dropped them into her bag as she inattentively walked towards the couch. It was just as she was about to drop her purse onto the cushion that she beheld a very... _interesting_ sight. Interesting enough to make her recoil with a brow-lift of disbelief.

There were Steve and Laura wrapped up in each other on the couch like two bugs in a rug, sleeping like they'd never slept before. A snore-less, comatose slumber. Steve was stretched across the couch on his back, one leg and arm dangling over the side, while Laura was snuggled on top of him underneath his lab coat. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, her face nuzzled against his neck as his other arm embraced her shoulders.

Harriette couldn't believe her own eyes. Granted, Steve's slack-jawed chin had a streak of drool and his glasses had fallen half-way down his face, but she had to admit, seeing them all cuddled up was one of the sweetest things she'd seen in a while. She couldn't help but silently observe them for a few moments, filled with an odd sense of satisfaction by how cute they actually looked together... and it was a little surprising since she never thought she'd see the day when Laura would become _this_ comfortable with being so close to Steve.

But she knew exactly what was going on the moment she spotted them. Becoming nostalgic as she recalled her younger years, she was instantly reminded of the harsh lessons in romance she had been faced with at their age. And that was the part that concerned her.

Sighing as her intuition tied a knot of worry in her gut, she dropped her bag onto the coffee table and sternly planted her hands on her hips. " _Ahem!_ " she cleared her throat loudly, sharply and obnoxiously cutting through the heavy silence.

"Red rum! RED RUM!" Steve belted in a panic as he was abruptly awakened, shooting upright with a horrified twitch and jolting Laura awake in a panic as well as he instinctively clutched the edges of the couch... wide-eyed, drool-faced and all.

 _Red Rum...?_ It took a few seconds for Laura to catch her wits as she peered around anxiously, slipping off of Steve to plop into the empty spot next to him, the lab coat flung from her shoulders. Squinting into awareness as she roused, she finally spotted her Mom in her sharpening vision... and then she peered to Steve, who was also disoriented with coming back to life as he shakily straightened his glasses on his face.

 _Oh, yeah.._. it was all coming back to her now. They were watching 'The Shining' when they must've drifted off to sleep. She vaguely remembered nestling herself beside him to innocently rest her head on his shoulder during the scarier parts of the movie and by the time they nodded off, they somehow ended up in a full-blown horizontal cuddle... imagine that.

"Mom…?" Laura croaked as she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "What time is it…?"

"Time for a wake-up call, apparently," Harriette quipped suspiciously as she canted her head inquisitively at them. "Went to 'nappy-land', did ya?" As Steve liked to put it.

"Oh, we were just watching..." Steve mumbled as he wiped his mouth with his sleeves, peering towards the black screen of the television... apparently, it had been watching _them_. "...Nothing," he followed up, shrinking timidly.

"Why are you home so late?" Laura asked once she was finally cognizant enough to absorb the fact that her mother had walked in on her all cuddled up with Steve Urkel.

Considering that she never confirmed her feelings for him with her mother, she knew immediately that it must have been alarming. Besides, she hadn't intended on getting so comfortable beside him in the first place, but... things happen. Ironically, she knew for a fact that she didn't regret it. She also wasn't sure she wanted to roll out that carpet just yet.

"Traffic was blocked for hours. Some idiot was streaking naked on the highway and caused a pile-up," Harriette replied dryly as she softened her stern posture a little.

She'd been suspicious since that night Steve told them he could read minds but not even all of the little clues she'd picked up on since were enough to convince her. Perhaps the sight of them in a romantic embrace was what it took... and as a result, she finally knew for sure who the 'other guy' in her daughter's life was. _Boy, oh, boy_ , this was a head-spinner.

And all Laura could do was utter a nervous chuckle, reading her mother's suspicion all over her face. Her shoulders rose to her ears timidly as she tried to will away the heat of embarrassment.

Steve seemed clueless as he was still trying to wake up. The tension between mother and daughter didn't dawn on him, neither did the implications of how they were caught just now. He was having a hard time remembering his own name at the moment and figured it'd be best if he just called it a night. "Oh. Well. I guess I'll just... head upstairs now," he murmured as he unceremoniously tried to get up from the couch, only to bump foreheads with Laura as she tried to do the same.

"Ow!" they squealed in unison as Laura sat back down to rub her pulsing head with a wince.

"Sorry-sorry!" Steve groaned as he rubbed his head as well, staggering with a flail as he stood and stumbled around the couch. Catching his footing, he held his head as he ambled languidly towards the stairs.

"Goodnight, Steve..." Laura tossed over her shoulder quickly, unable to resist the urge to cryptically thank him for a lovely nap. But her head lowered once she knew her mother must have detected the affectionate cadence of her voice. The thing was, she wasn't sure if she cared how ambiguous she was or not anymore.

"Nighty-night, my pet," he replied with a tired smile as he paused on the staircase to acknowledge her with sparkles of adoration in his eyes. And then, with a heavy yawn, he made his way up the stairs like a zombie ready to collapse. Naps always just made him more tired for some reason and so he planned do just that as soon as he made it to his bed.

...And Harriette not only saw the spark between them, but practically felt Cupid's arrow whiz past her head. Yup, she knew it. These two were in cahoots and it couldn't have been more obvious.

She wasn't so much alarmed as she was concerned about them being impulsive. She saw nothing intrinsically wrong with them being together — it was actually kind of sweet... besides the fact that, to her recollection, Laura was _two-timing him!_ And she expected much more than that from her daughter, especially when it came to Steve. All she could do was shoot Laura a glare of warning as her arms crossed sternly across her chest.

Her mother's admonishment was silent. And yet Laura heard it loud and clear. _Innocent shrug?_ There wasn't much of an explanation to give and so Laura just twiddled her thumbs as she rode out the uncomfortable wave of awkward silence, blushing under her Mom's blistering scrutiny.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 23..._


	23. Blind Alleys

_**Chapter 23: Blind Alleys**_

 _Summary: Harriette warns Laura about the murky road ahead when she learns about the nature of her feelings for Steve._

* * *

Nibbling on her bottom lip nervously as she squirmed on the couch, Laura wondered how long she had to endure the heat of her mother's stare before it was safe to just make a run for it. But she was still a little groggy from the most incredible nap she'd ever had. When it came down to it, she could barely stand from the couch, let alone flee yet another pointless lecture.

Harriette gave a pitiful shake of her head as she shot her daughter a look of disapproval. A part of her was tempted to let her learn the rules of romance the hard way since she had a feeling that the lesson would be lost on her otherwise. But her concern over Laura's obvious naivety compelled her to make a cheeky assessment, _"Girl,_ you're skating on ice so thin, you're already up to your ankles in slush."

Laura knew it was a no-no to roll her eyes at her mother but she was not feeling all of the thriftless feedback she didn't ask for. When she thought about how deeply submerged she'd gotten into this mess without her parents' help, their opinions became null and void. So she gave a dismissive scoff as her eyes tumbled around their sockets in annoyance, folding her arms indignantly.

And Harriette just tilted her head and scowled at her, disgruntled by all the attitude. Like most people close to Laura, she began to wonder where exactly this defiant impostor filling her daughter's shoes had come from. "Hey. You better straighten out those eyeballs before they accidentally fall outta your head," she quipped wryly, scolding her with a narrow-eyed glare.

Normally, Laura would have humbled herself at that familiar threat but the heart-wrenching conversation she had with Steve was still fresh in her mind, tugging at the sensitive nerve-endings of her empathy. Her thoughts momentarily wandered to the other night when the prospect of her Dad catching her and Stefan struck the fear of God in her… and in retrospect, it was kinda silly. She could only imagine the type of fear Steve was forced to endure when he was punished and yet she was used to shuddering in her boots when cornered by her benign parents, who she knew would never lay a finger on her.

Suddenly, her mother's judgment didn't seem so scary. She felt empowered enough to embody her budding maturity and the gripe she had with that empty threat was fueled by the newfound insight that abuse of any kind was no joking matter. "Is that supposed to be funny, Mom? Well, it's _not_ , so stop saying that," she challenged defensively with her own frown of disapproval.

…Now Harriette _knew_ something was up. She didn't necessarily feel disrespected. She was well aware that Laura was at an age where demanding anything from her was like beseeching a brick wall. But she liked to think that she knew her daughter well enough to know when she was veering off the tracks and needed course correction.

She decided to take a gentler approach since she could understand her frustration… especially when she considered the fact that Steve had somehow become a main player in this conundrum. Sighing, she stepped closer to the couch to take a seat next to her, regarding her with a concerned knit of her brows. "…Laura, what's gotten into you? You got a poisonous love bug up your butt?"

 _Oh, goodie._ Another 'talk' with no intact solutions to look forward to. With another roll of her eyes, Laura began to itch for a little relief from all of the third-degree she'd had to deal with lately. " _No._ Nothing's 'gotten into me', I'm fine! _"_ she insisted, having long abandoned any need to act innocent even though she continued to regurgitate her denial.

"That's not what it looks like to me," said Harriette, dialing up the pressure with cold-hard facts, "Not too long ago, you wouldn't even let Steve breathe in your direction and now you're practically stitched at the hip. On top of that, your mood has been switching like the weather lately. You're saying that's just my imagination, right?"

"Mom, do we _have_ to do this right now?" Laura whined impatiently, her arms dangling limp at her sides as she hunched over in defeat. She was already sleepy but she was starting to become even more exhausted with the way her parents imposed all these expectations on her like she was still a teenager… then again, talking to Steve made her realize that she should be grateful for their attentiveness. At least her parents loved her enough to be worried in the first place.

As frustrating as it was to humble herself to that reality, she acknowledged it just the same, trying her best to be more receptive as she calmly countered her mother's claim, "What you saw wasn't even a big deal — we just fell asleep watching a movie, that's all."

"'Not a big deal'?" Harriette parroted dubiously as she sized her daughter up like she needed a straight-jacket. "If you expect me to believe that, you're as senseless as Helen Keller." But here they were again at the impasse they tended to encounter whenever her daughter refused to be honest. And so she tossed her the line she needed to be yanked out of her denial, making her suspicions plain as day. "Laura… Steve's the 'other guy', isn't he?"

" _Pffft!"_ Laura resented that with a dramatic scoff almost immediately, despite tingling with the infatuation in question the moment she heard Steve's name. She knew she should've kept her big mouth shut to begin with and now she had to produce answers that she didn't want to touch. "What makes you think that?" she asked uneasily, partially to deflect the claim… and partially out of curiosity towards what gave it away.

"I have eyes, for one! You're not hiding it very well!" Harriette exclaimed, becoming disillusioned by her foolish attempts to keep the wool pulled over her eyes. "You're only fooling yourself at this point. I saw the way you looked at him. And I _highly_ doubt that you tripped and accidentally fell into his arms like that." Especially since she knew that she only got _that_ comfortable with guys she really liked.

…And Laura should've seen that coming. Trying to outsmart her mother never worked before; she had no idea why she thought this time around would be any different. "Alright-alright, _fine!"_ she finally admitted with a flail of surrender. _"_ It's true, I'm attracted to him, okay?"

Once again, she was finding that admitting it out-loud always made her feel better… she considered that maybe she should start listening to that instead of resisting it. And that's when her frustration started to roll off of her shoulders, becoming a bit whimsical as she thought about the things that made her gut deliciously flutter when she thought about Steve. "I think he's… he's very intelligent… funny… romantic… extremely loyal… and kinda cute but —"

"Oooooo-weeeee…" Harriette jeered with a stifled snicker, her disbelief accompanied by a slow shake of her head as she discerned the enamored sparkles in her daughter's eyes clear as day… she couldn't help but wonder which sign of the Apocalypse this extremely unlikely occurrence related to. And even though she finally admitted it, she could tell by her daughter's elusive phrasing that she still wasn't being completely honest. And so she challenged her with an echo of her own words back to her. "That's it, huh? 'Kinda cute'? If I remember correctly, the word you used when you told me about this was 'amazing'. Have you been sniffing glue or something?"

Beneath Harriette's concern was amusement, a part of her becoming tickled with excitement by the fact that Laura could even use Steve Urkel and 'amazing' in the same thought process… or _any_ of those words she just used to describe him, in fact. It was sure-fire sign that despite the reckless way she was handling her confusion, _something_ in her was forcing her to finally grow up and she couldn't help but be proud to see that. But she also knew that she would run into thorny paths if she wasn't cautious.

And all Laura could do was cringe, becoming uncomfortable with the fact that she had been so painfully transparent from the very beginning. Everybody kept tossing her hypocrisy back in her face like snowballs. But out of every glaring uncertainty, for good or for bad, only one thing seemed to remain consistent: "...We're _just friends_ , Mom."

Harriette just scoffed dubiously. "You're 'just friends' now but what happens when you realize that you want more than that?" she asserted, hoping to influence her to consider the future by challenging her with more of her own words, "Didn't you tell me that you kissed him?"

 _Jeez_ , her mother didn't forget _anything!_ Somehow Laura kept herself from whining over this fact as she rolled into her flaccid defense, "Just once! … _Twice_ … Okay, _three_ times a charm," Laura admitted timidly before irritably tossing out technicalities, "But the first two didn't even count, I had to write a check for 'em!" Grouching in discouragement, she sank her chin in her palm as she leaned forward with her elbows in her lap, falling into a thoughtful, defeated pout when she heard her own words ringing with contradictions… and realized that she was fresh out of excuses. There wasn't much more of a testimonial to give since it was starting to feel like her mom was omnipotent anyway _._

...If this was starting to make Harriette's skull throb with befuddlement, she could only imagine the headaches Laura had to deal with at this point. And her heart bled for her since she could relate to such an isolated, helpless feeling.

"Listen, honey…" she began gently with a worried sigh, consoling her daughter with a pat her knee. "I think it's really sweet that you and Steve are starting to see eye-to-eye. He's always adored you and it's good to keep people around you that love you that much." She smiled warmly, her foresight into their relationship over the years giving her a glimpse of the positive possibilities, but only briefly before making a very austere suggestion, "But if you're not serious about him, then you need to end this before you break that boy's heart." Or, in Steve's case, _shatter_ it.

Rattled by a pulse of rejection of that statement that she couldn't resist, Laura shot an affronted scowl at her mother and countered her warning defensively, "…What makes you think I'm not serious about him?"

 _As if she didn't know._ Harriette just shot her a blank stare — it felt pretty redundant to roll out her miles-long track record when it came to resisting Steve like a virus. "Excuse me? For as long as you've been running in the other direction, you expect me to believe that you're heads-over-heels _now?!_ " she replied incredulously, evoking yet another pout of surrender out of her daughter. "What happened to that unforgiving, anti-Urkel spokesgirl I know and love?"

Laura should have anticipated a stampede of skepticism after a lifetime of swearing by never letting Steve near her. But she knew it served her right... because as she wistfully caught the sight of his lab coat in the corner of her eye on the couch beside her, all she wanted to do was wrap herself in it and let his surprisingly alluring scent lull her to sleep again. She reflected on how the warmth of his embrace during their nap had been the most relaxing escape she'd found in a while... and she secretly wished that they could rescue her from this interrogation right now.

At least the sickening fever of embarrassment she'd felt almost constantly since the auction was starting to numb up. But it didn't mean she was in the mood to be put on the spot. Besides, the answer to that riddle wasn't rocket science like she'd tried to convince herself to believe.

"…So, I changed my mind! Big deal!" she blurted with an irritable flail. "Dad changed his tie twice this morning — you didn't jump down _his_ throat!"

...Harriette could only hope she was just _acting_ clueless. Because she didn't remember raising a dunce. Quirking her brow her quizzically, she quipped dryly, "You're comparing hearts to haberdashery? Apples and bowling balls, sweetheart."

And when Laura gave an indignant scoff in rebuttal, she canted her head at her to scold her a little firmer with incriminating ammunition, "Y'know, your father told me he caught Stefan in your room the other night." Even though the crime of breaking the house rules also worried her, she was more concerned about the fact that Laura probably didn't think Steve was so 'amazing' when Stefan was around. And so she had to wonder: "How long before your tune changes this time?"

 _Ugh_. When was this travesty going to get stale enough to just… die out? Laura was getting restless waiting on her deliverance. She deflated with a sigh, feeling a major burnout on the horizon. "Mom, just gimme a break, already —"

" _Laura_. It is _not_ okay to mislead either one of them like this!" Harriette warned tersely before she tried to maneuver around the issue. Even though she sympathized with her plight, she knew that her daughter was experiencing very critical years in her development. She feared that she might wake up one morning and realize that she didn't like what she saw in the mirror if she didn't take the blinders off and _soon_.

...Unbeknownst to her, Laura had walked through that ring of fire several times over by now. In her defense, she felt just as blind-sided as everybody else at this point. "That's never what I was _trying_ to do — I didn't _ask_ to start liking Steve, it just …happened!" she whined helplessly. Feeling slaughtered by all of this romantic baggage, all she could do was beg for insight since she was no closer to solving this impossible puzzle. "Didn't you go through this yourself? If you have all of the answers already, _trust me_ , I could use some right now."

"There's no such thing as easy answers, Laura. You can't make this decision with anything but your heart," Harriette replied solemnly, drawing that unfortunate conclusion from her own experience. She couldn't help but worry that her daughter had no conceivable clue just how important her choices would be on the rest of her life… she certainly hadn't seen it at her age.

Thankfully, she could look back on it with no regrets since she got beautiful kids and wonderful husband out of her own ordeals. But there was no telling how lucky Laura would be in that arena if she wasn't proactive in controlling her destiny. "This is only going to complicate things and ruin your friendship with Steve if you're not more responsible. Is that what you want?"

"Of course it isn't." Laura bellyached as she briefly had an unpleasant premonition of that outcome. But she refused to give into the fear provoked by such a thought since she was armed with a fresh sense of hope that her and Steve had gained a new, precious understanding of each other that no one else could ever comprehend at this point.

That thought fueled the determination she needed to spark some dignity back into her discouraged posture. "But that's not gonna happen because there's nothing like that going on anyway. We've just gotten… _closer_ , that's all." Well, that was the best way to put it, anyway. Hopefully, it would be enough to repel her mother's foreboding line of questioning.

But Harriette still wasn't buying it. Unfortunately, she also knew that Laura was equipped with one of the hardest heads ever created — her and her brother had been that way since they were born. And so she expected nothing less than feigned ignorance until this thing was forced to blow up in her face. As much as that possibility wrought her with anxiety, it became clear that she would probably have to let her daughter stumble this time. All she could do was stay optimistic and hope God could catch her.

So, with a heavy sigh of surrender, she simply extended an arm around her daughter's shoulders to comfort her, drawing her into a reassuring embrace. "I hope so," she murmured as Laura welcomed the brief sense of security she felt in her mother's arms and hugged her warmly in return.

Smirking, Harriette let the painful irony of the situation pass long enough to allow the comical nature of it to the surface. "Because when your father finds out about this... he might pop an artery. And after he has an aneurysm, he'll give Steve one," she teased with a chuckle… though something in her told her there was probably more fact than fiction in that jest.

"…Not if he passes out from a giggle-fit of disbelief first," Laura quipped with a chuckle of her own, already anticipating the bewildered look on her father's face… and they both broke out into amused giggles as they shared the joke. Just the hilarious prospect of shocking the wits out of her father almost made this entire dilemma worth it.

But as her mother continued to remind her, the juggling of hearts was no laughing matter. Becoming solemn again as this daunting reality cast shadows on her amusement, she gently retreated from Harriette's arms and peered at her with grave resolve.

"Look, Mom… I know none of this makes any sense…believe me, nobody's more shocked than I am. But this isn't a game to me," she reassured her firmly, hoping that her mother could trust her judgment and allow her to step into her maturity on her own, speaking from the core of her heart, "Steve's... _special_ to me. And I really don't wanna hurt him anymore. I'll be more careful, just... let me handle it, okay?"

Honoring her daughter's request, Harriette just gave a helpless shrug and abdicated her opinion. "It's your life, honey. I just hope you two know what you're doing." All she could do now was let the reigns go and hope Laura's road to adulthood wouldn't veer into a dead-end… or over a cliff.

* * *

 **THE NEXT DAY…**

"What a daaaaaay it has beeeeen... what a RAAAARE moooood I'm iiiinnnn... why, it's almoooost like beeeeing …in _looooove!"_ Steve sang merrily at the top of his lungs as he dramatically barraged through the door of his and Eddie's room, clutching a couple of textbooks with one arm as the other swept the sweet air with fanfare. His shoulders shimmied, fingers snapped, and a saddle shoe tapped to the rhythm of his ode to love with the most animated grandeur. Because it was a glorious day indeed! Good thing the house was empty or he would have been given grief for his vocal celebration.

But he couldn't help it — he felt like a brand new man! He'd had the sacred events of last night on his mind since he woke up, cheerfully skipping through his morning classes with a smiling heart, feeling as light as a feather. Oddly enough, as he twirled, shimmied and shook his way through the room to drop his books onto his bed, it was probably the most graceful he'd ever been, puppeteered by his soaring hopes.

What he noticed as he whistled to himself, digging out his physics notebook from the top drawer in his nightstand, was that he hadn't felt this focused and clear-minded in ages, ready to tackle his next class with an iron fist. And he owed it all to his lady love, who had graciously acted as a vessel for his darkest secret and deepest woes. It was like he'd finally taken his first breath twenty years after his birth.

Not only that, but he got a chance to... _cuddle_ with her. Sure, it was an accident... sorta... and he didn't necessarily get a chance to _experience_ it since they were both sleeping like babies the entire time. But that didn't make the fact that he _finally_ had her in his arms any less exciting. It was certainly reason enough to keep singing!

" _Do-dooo-doo-do-do_ — there's a SMIIIILE on mah faaaaace! For the hoooomo-sapien raaaaace! Why, it's almoooost like beeeeing ...in LOOOOOOVE!" he bellowed and scatted as he spun around and did a quick shuffle before finishing off his boogie with a tap-dance stomp. All he was missing was a spotlight and some rim-shots.

Taking a deep, contented breath, he began to look around the room quizzically. Scratching his head and then patted down himself down, he realized he was missing something... "Hm. I wonder where my coat went..." he mused to himself as he took a quick survey of the room and saw no trace of it. "No wonder I feel so naked!" he exclaimed with a flail.

Pausing to trace his steps, he tapped his chin in deep thought, remembering that he had it on last night... but for some reason, he couldn't remember that he'd draped it over Laura when she complained about being cold. Maybe he was so entranced by her beauty to keep up with it.

In any case, he knew that he couldn't conduct the usual scavenger hunt since he didn't have much time before he had to be back on campus. He decided to roll the dice and take a quick gander in his closet instead. Whistling to himself again, he shuffled his way over to the slide-out door and pulled it open... only to almost die from instant shock.

"Waaaa-AAAAHHH!" he exclaimed and stumbled backward with arms flailing wildly as he had the wits spooked right out of him! He panted and wailed in horror as he collided with his bed, falling onto the mattress in a panic. Scurrying to sit upright, he straightened his glasses and gave a vicious squint to make out _what the heck_ that was hiding in the closet!

"Hi there, love muffin!" chirped a cowering Myra, who popped up out from her hiding spot with a grin of angelic innocence, her shoulders slowly rising to her ears with a guilty grimace. "...Did I scare you?"

 _GAAASSSP!_ Steve recoiled in consternation as his intruder revealed herself, perking with shock. "MYRA!" he exclaimed with a snarl, abhorred by her blatant display of desperation... not to mention that he would have preferred surviving that entire day without running into her. Now he knew his clear-headed focus was on it's way right out of the window! "What in the _blazes_ of Lucifer's soup are you doing in there?!"

Of course, the answer was painfully passive. "Dropping in on you, my hunk-a-dacious heart-throb!" she twittered with a provocative little shimmy in his direction, deliberately fluttering the pleats of her short black skirt to give him an immodest peek of her thighs. That wardrobe choice was certainly not an accident.

Nor was the low-cut lavender blouse she wore, accentuating her _assets_. Sure enough, she couldn't help but notice how Steve's gaze seemed to be magnetically drawn there despite his buzzing agitation. She just smiled impishly at him. "That's not a problem, is it?" she asked sweetly with a cant of her head, innocently lifting a finger to twirl a tendril of her hair.

"Well, no but…" he was compelled to reply, instantly enchanted by the sensuous... _view_. He was really starting to resent her for the way she could instantly push his buttons like that — there was certainly no denying that Myra had always been eye-candy of the most exquisite variety. Even so, he found his thoughts deferring to Laura in rejection of her tantalizing spell quicker than usual. As easily as he was hypnotized, he snapped back to reality with his vexation in tow, "...Wait a darn minute, how'd you get up here?! Nobody's been home all morning!" he questioned as he popped up from the bed to inch towards her cautiously.

"How do you think, silly — through the window!" she chirped without hesitation, seeing zero error in taking matters into her own hands. In her mind, an invasive action was required at this point. Grinning with honey in her gums, she tenderly closed the gap between them and trailed a fingertip down his sternum, marking her territory with a line of desire.

Steve just sighed in defeat and gave her a pitiful shake of his head... seriously, why was he even surprised anymore? This was the same girl who initiated the Great Piñata Scandal of '97; he shouldn't have expected anything less.

"I just wanted to check in on my sexy sesame bun and see how he's doing!" ...Among other things on her list, like make sure Laura hadn't been putting her filthy paws all over her man. Myra's fingers began to trace the button line of the deep maroon sweater he wore, wishing she could just rip it off of him since it was too bland and boring for her stud muffin anyway... but she kept her restraint intact. Besides, she had a tiny bone to pick with him, as evidenced by the sudden dejection he detected in her sing-songy tone, "I wouldn't _knoooow_ because he hasn't called me or groveled to me in _soooo_ long, I'm starting to get the twitches again."

Oh, boy. He knew immediately to put his guards up in preparation for an intense battle of contradictions. "Myra, I _just_ saw you the other night!" he protested in reply, completely unphased by the way she started to slowly pick the buttons of his sweater apart... actually, he was _trying_ to pretend like he didn't notice.

But she was pulling out all of the stops right now. Armed with very few tactics left to her disposal to get his attention, she knew she had to turn up her seduction game and _pronto_. That much was clear the last time she saw him, the way in which he acted all depressed the entire time came to her defense, "And that ended _so well_ , didn't it? You were being such a Debbie-Downer, I didn't even get a goodnight kiss!" And even through her seething, she continued to deftly pluck and pick apart button... after button...

Steve twisted his mouth at her incredulously before he brought up what he thought was a justified reason for that: "…You hog-tied me during Twister while I was contorted like a pretzel!" he spat accusingly, to which she feigned her innocence with a sweet grin. But he just rebuked it sarcastically, "Did you really think I'd be _ecstatic?"_

"You didn't enjoy that?" she asked haughtily with a cant of her head. Of course she hog-tied him; how else was she going to get him to stay with her? He was in such a hurry to leave all the time these days! Before long, she would be asking him to walk around with a spiked shock collar on. With that in mind, there was only so much she was going to allow him to protest.

"Oh, well!" she chirped and brightened again, aggressively picking apart the final button. And before he knew what hit him, she was suddenly snatching his sweater apart to expose his undershirt, causing him to shriek in surprise as he was overwhelmed by her tigress attack in a blink of an eye.

"Maybe you'll enjoy _this_ instead…" she purred salaciously before tackling him into his bed with the strength of ten linebackers before he could even catch a breath long enough to yelp in shock. She anxiously straddled him in order to begin raining a flurry of kisses all over his face.

"W-w-wait-wait! Myra —" he sputtered helplessly under her love assault as he felt her hands begin to sneak their way beneath his shirt to graze his bare stomach, sending jolts of electricity up his spine. "Ooo-ooo-oooh! That tickles!" he shuddered as his willpower was briefly overwhelmed with the tempting, sinful desire that always came with succumbing to her spell.

But beyond being weakened by her persistence, and again reminded of Laura, another critical and credible detail quickly came to mind to extinguish his yearnings. He tried to scramble from underneath her but the best he could do was sit upright as she hovered over him. "Hey-hey-hey, put the fire out, woman!" he urged her, pulling her away long enough to get her to stop smothering him with kisses. He wasn't even aware of the pepperings of lipstick marks all over his face. "I don't have time for this right now; I have to be in class in twenty minutes —" he tried to explain... in utter vain.

"Perfect!" Myra chirped in excitement as she grabbed his face to continue her worship fest, crooning at him softly as she landed more feathery kisses on him between her words as they fell from her lips like a love song, "Just enough time to devour … _every_ … _square…_ _inch…_ of you."

 _...Aw, doggone it._ Unfortunately for Steve, she was well aware of all the right ways to reel him on into her lusty doom and he found himself gradually submitting to her spell as his lids became heavy, fluttering shut as she cherished him with her soft, spell-bounding kisses.

The thing was... he wasn't even sure why that was a bad thing. They were still going steady but he couldn't say he held a guilty conscience for having Laura on his mind right now. Then again, how was that different from any other day? "Myra, this is unacceptable...!" he croaked with desire, breathlessly trying to protest her advances... and it wasn't working. But he gave the best of his resistance, courageously setting his boundaries, "You can't just pop up like the IRS and audit my schedule whenever you feel like it!"

"Oh, nonsense, snugglebuns! We used to ditch your lectures together all the time!" she deflected sharp as a tack. And Steve wasn't necessarily proud of that since he preferred to keep his record picture-perfect. But that was the effect this little minx had on him — at times, she could be more tantalizing than a mountain of shredded cheese. "In fact… it's been a long time since we've been to that hidden orchid behind the greenhouse, y'know…" she whispered as her kisses began to stalk the _sweet spot..._ Steve shuddered uncontrollably as he felt her wet tongue slowly snake into his ear.

He was crumbling to dust under pressure and felt himself losing a grip on his chastity, flailing to grip to _something_ to keep from exploding... only to find that she was the only thing nearby. "I _know_ but finals are around the corner and those A's won't make themselves!" Steeling his resolve long enough to croak another plea, he struggled with whether or not he should cling onto her for dear life or _run_ for his life.

"Neither will our children, Steven, but _I'm_ staying open-minded, _aren't I?"_ she retorted with sugary, manipulative charm. Predictably, he still refused to latch onto that hook.

Immediately turned off by her subliminal suggestion, Steve once again tried to wriggle from underneath her, grabbing her hands to assert his dominance. _"Myra,_ how many times do I have to —"

"Sugar-booger…!" she interjected with a pouty whine, wringing a hand from his grip to pin a finger over his lips, silencing him. Crooning with feigned remorse, she once again tried to bait his favor with seductive, goosebump-inducing purrs. "I know you're still a little miffed at me for what I did to... _what's-her-face,"_ she grumbled with a roll of her eyes, before lovingly nuzzling her nose against his, pouting at him innocently. _"_ But you can't punish me forever, Stevie. I don't mean to be a fussy-pants, I just miss the way things used to be." Attempting to reel him back in gently, she landed a soft kiss on his cheek as her arms gingerly snaked around his neck as she snuggled comfortably in his lap. "…Don't you?"

...Hmm, how could he put this honestly? He found himself pausing in contemplation of her question, aware that pursuing the full truth here was likely to get him killed. "Well —" But before he was ever allowed to formulate the thought, she smashed her lips against his, ever so possessively stealing the kiss she'd been desperately begging him for all week.

And it became apparent pretty quickly that there was no escape! Her kiss of death not only took his breath away, but he was convinced that this is what drowning felt like. His panicky protests muffled, he flailed as she aggressively pinned him down on the bed once again to ravish him with all of her might...

 _Knock-knock. "Steve?"_ a voice suddenly floated through the bedroom door, alarming Steve since he recognized it immediately, causing him to flail and rebel a little harder...

...Which was far more difficult than he wanted it to be. The longer she kissed him, the angrier his hormones got at him for resisting. And it was proving to be a lost cause since Myra was hardly persuaded to let up.

Well, speak of the She-Devil! Was that the man-thief herself on the other side of the door?! As Myra greedily sampled the taste of her boyfriend's lips, straddling him in the most precariously suggestive position, a sinister plan had already brewed a storm of revenge in her head. She was well aware of Laura's feelings for her man and even if her smear scandal had backfired, she zeroed in on the opportunity to exact the ultimate vengeance. She didn't dare relinquish her lustful torture on Steve now.

Cavalierly pushing the door ajar with Steve's white lab coat in her hand, Laura had no idea she'd be walking right in on a devastation when she intended on returning it to him today. Unfortunately, she had quite the gut-check in store.

"Steve, here's your —" ...she balked in shock, freezing mid-sentence as the sight Myra making out with Steve like they were in a romantic resort on a deserted island hit her like a Mack truck, souring her veins with a surge of hankering envy that she simply _was not_ expecting today. Chewing her inner cheek as she was forced to act nonchalant, she tried her best not to let on just how _bothered_ she was by the nauseating sight. "...here's your lab coat," she followed up as evenly possible after swallowing a tight lump of discouragement that suddenly became lodged in her throat. She suddenly wished she hadn't secretly slept with the damn thing last night...

But Myra could practically feel the jealousy radiating off of her from afar like a wide open stove, which went exactly according to plan! And the glorious moment of divine retribution couldn't have been more perfect. It was only after she was sure Laura got an eyeful of their 'beautifully passionate' physical connection did she finally break away from Steve long enough to allow him to catch a deep, gasping breath.

Of course, his wide eyes zeroed in on Laura the moment he took that breath. But his right to breathe was short-lived as he tried to beg to for clemency... and perhaps insist that what she was looking at was a figment of her imagination. "Laur—!"

...Only to be stifled by Myra's dominance as she quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to silence him, more or less shoving his head into the pillow as she gleamed at Laura with a smile that could light up a thousand suns, "Oh, _hiiiiii... Laura_ , is it?!" she perked brightly, her twittery arrogance stinking up the room as she continued to subliminally taunt her with condescending jabs, "Room service? That's just fine, you can put it on that chair over there and be on your merry little way, thanks _ever_ so much!"

Laura felt completely disoriented by the tidal wave of blinding confusion that hit her in that moment and she couldn't help but scowl in stunned silence. Like, what was happening right now?

Maybe the root of her confusion was due to the fact that she'd somehow convinced herself in the last twelve hours and that her and Steve had taken a _tiny_ step forward... as a result, she somehow managed to forget that Myra was still a player in this confusion as well. _Everybody_ seemed to forget that Steve was just as guilty as she was in a lot of ways when it came to juggling hearts. Then again, not a lot of people took him or Myra seriously. Maybe they would if they walked in on this overactive gag-fest like Laura just did because the 'situation' looked pretty serious to her.

But when Laura's pensive silence didn't satisfy Myra's mischievous wiles, she felt a petty need to dig the knife of resentment a little deeper. "I _saaaaid_ you can excuse yourself now. We're kinda in the _middle of something_ ," she sneered in dismissal as she continued to keep Steve submissively silent beneath her. "That means no tip today, honey! Sorry!"

Well... that said it all, then. Laura's eyes narrowed at Myra as she absorbed the shady sticks and stones like a champ. She was briefly struck with the wonder of how many times her mother must've dropped her on her head. As much as she wanted to spit snarky venom at Myra in response, it became clear that she was at a disadvantage. She couldn't challenge the girl out of respect for Steve. As his official girlfriend, she knew Myra had every right to make such a demand. But the worst part was that she knew expressing her jealousy would only give her away.

As far as she knew, Myra was still clueless about her feelings... the likes of which suddenly became unappealing. Especially when she knew competing with all that explosive energy Myra embodied would be quite the undertaking and she wasn't sure she and Steve would ever be compatible in that way anyway. Just like that, in rolled the doubts and excuses, preparing to avalanche into a bottomless pit of denial once again.

Rolling her eyes, she just sighed and aimlessly tossed the lab coat towards the chair as requested with every intention of letting it fall on the floor instead. And she watched it float to the ground like the pitiful relic it suddenly became, losing all substance in her eyes. "…Yeah. _Whatever_." With that dry, disgruntled response, she pivoted and dismissively walked out of the door, slamming it shut behind her.

And it took everything in Myra's power not to erupt in an evil, victorious cackle as she detected Laura's vitriol, the impish twinkle in her eye glimmering with satisfaction. _That'll_ certainly remind the both of them who really called the shots around here.

...Of course, had it not been for the sweet taste of victory, her next question would have been why Laura had his lab coat in the first place. She was one of the few people who knew that Steve regarded the garment like a lucky charm and would never just haphazardly misplace it... but she pushed those dwellings aside for another time. Now that she finally had her love muffin all to herself, she had kisses to steal before he tried to scurry out of her possessive strong-hold again!

 _Aww, great!_ Like clockwork, Steve was watching his amazing day be cast away like a tumbleweed in a dust storm before his very eyes. Myra had once again proven to be a formidable force to be reckoned with. "Wait! Laura —!" he tried to protest once more as he fought to free himself from her alluring prison, only to be shut down by the invasion of her hungry lips against his, aggressively silencing his rebellion and yet again robbing him of his ability to draw a breath... or even think a coherent thought...

He couldn't help but wonder how many more times they'd all have to go on this merry-go-round before someone would stop the ride... because he was starting to get dizzy.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 24_


	24. Off the Deep End

_**Chapter 24: Off the Deep End**_

 _Summary: Stirred by her confusion, Laura considers working things out with Stefan only to find out that devoting herself to him would require a huge sacrifice._

* * *

Laura wasn't sure what she was expecting to happen between her and Steve since that fateful night she got a rare glimpse of who he really was for the first time. All she knew was that she hadn't looked at him the same ever since and she felt entranced with curiosity every time she laid eyes on him. The fact that he was far more abstract than she ever could have guessed suddenly morphed him into a kindred spirit, her shifting perception of him opening the floodgates for her feelings to gush through.

Unfortunately, in the brief amount of time it took for her to open up to the possibility of a future with him, her lifted hopes were snatched away just as quickly. Her fragile optimism shattered the moment she saw him and Myra going to town in a tongue-wrestle match and it was difficult for her to distance herself from her envy in the days that followed.

But as much as she found herself burning to vent her aggravation, her mother's grave warning always rang in her mind as the equalizer to her impulses. She feared that the chances of their friendship falling apart were high if she wasn't tactful with how she reacted to him. And she refused to let that happen after a lifetime of disregarding him.

And so whenever Steve tried to bring it up, her only option was to pretend as if she were unaffected by it, even though she was well aware that doing so was a huge step backwards. But she preferred to backtrack out of fear than to plunge headfirst into the unknown.

It turned out that honoring her friendship with Steve wedged a road-block in the romantic tension between them, her lack of initiation stranding him as a submissive victim to Myra's constant and possessive attempts to keep his attention. And even though he seemed to be waiting for some sort of signal from her, respecting his relationship suddenly put Laura in a position where she was forced to push her feelings way back down below the surface until it began to feel like they were right back where they started.

The see-saw of denial predictably tipped once she dared to allow thoughts of Stefan to drift back into her conscience. Suddenly, she began to see reminders of him popping up everywhere she looked, haunted by the many gifts and sentimental relics he'd given her over the years. Once she fell into that trap of nostalgia, reminiscing about simpler times, the impulse to take up Stefan on his plea to not to give up on them hit her like a ton of bricks. It all had her speculating that perhaps this 'space' between her and own boyfriend was… premature.

She knew he'd been waiting for her to reach out to him in reassurance that this whole thing was just bad dream and she became spurned with deprivation, longing for him all over again. Of course she missed him. And of course she ended up getting in contact with him.

* * *

 **A FEW WEEKS LATER**

Even though Laura resisted putting any labels on what 'moving forward' meant until she could see a clearer vision of her future, Stefan had other ideas. He had no intentions of taking no for an answer. Despite honoring her wishes to take things slow, she still never stopped being his lady in his mind. Hence, his plans to make her his forever were never put on ice.

Unfortunately, over the last week or so, his busy schedule continued to be an ongoing obstacle. Anytime they made plans, he would only bounce back with another excuse for why they had to postpone. It didn't take long for them to fall back into the same familiar patterns that had always been a handicap in their relationship… and this time, she was compelled to blame him for it.

Once again summoned to Italy for an undetermined amount of time, Stefan's obligations put a damper on the entire weekend they had planned together. And Laura began to wonder just how serious he was about reconciling their precious connection since his career continued to be a priority over her. The 'space' clause suddenly didn't even require effort on her part, which she noticed began steadily building the bitter tension back up between them.

Not to mention the fact that Steve also went away this weekend and since he had become her main study buddy, his absence left her to her own devices. All she could do now was float on the breezes of uncertainty like a wayward feather that wouldn't touch down no matter how hard she tried to stay grounded.

Crossing the threshold of her bedroom after a long and monotonous night out, she took a deep breath of exhaustion as she shrugged out of her cheetah-print jacket, kicking the door shut behind her with a scoff. She wasn't too overjoyed with the fact that her parents let Steve's thuggish cousin, Original Gangsta Dawg — as he liked to call himself — stay with them for the weekend after he popped up at the house out of thin air. Steve sure did have a weird array of personalities in his family. But if she had to swallow her irritation in order to help out her best friend's kin, then so be it. It didn't mean she had to enjoy being under the same roof as that creep for a few days.

The only thing enjoyable about that evening had been seeing a Missy Elliot performance live but she preferred to forget the fact that she had to fend off O.G.D. the entire time, who she invited along just to be polite. By the time she made it home, she wanted nothing more than to crash-land on her bed and finally catch some relief for her throbbing headache but her cell phone began to chirp in the pocket of her jacket just as she hung it up in her closet.

She knew immediately that it had to be Stefan calling since he was one of the few people who knew her cell number. Digging the phone out and extending the antenna, she distractedly wedged it between her ear and her shoulder to speak into the receiver as she leaned against the wall to pull her shoes off of her feet. "Hello?"

"Laura." As predicted, she heard Stefan's stoic voice drone with concern through the receiver, though it was hardly what she would classify as a greeting.

"Hey, Stefan." She couldn't help but smile, the sound of his voice sparking a sense of relief. He came to her rescue in terms of erasing the more irritating moments of the last few hours out of her memory.

" _Mmm-hmm…_ "

… A _brief_ spark of relief since she immediately picked up on his peeved and suspicious tone. _Ugh, here we go._ They had been clashing all week, flagging the tension of anxiety that ignited between them ever since their last night together. And she was hardly in the mood to deal with it right now because she got a gut feeling that this conversation was about to lead down another bumpy road. "What's wrong now?" she asked, sighing dolefully as she dragged herself towards the chair by the window to plop into it to rub her aching feet with her free hand.

Stefan had no intentions on beating around the bush this time, not only skipping pleasantries but bypassing the typical litany of sweet-nothings she was accustomed to. "Why is this 'O.G.D.' fool answering your phone?" he antagonized, clearly annoyed by the fact that _anybody_ but her was answering her cell, let alone that disrespectful hooligan who stepped so far out of his body with empty threats that he had to be from another universe. Recalling the extremely irritating exchange he had with the guy earlier when he called, Stefan couldn't help but mumble to himself disparagingly, "What kind of name is that? Sounds like something you catch under your armpits..."

Well, that was predictable. Laura just rolled her eyes in dismissal as she berated O.G.D. in her head. He must've grabbed it out of her jacket when she walked away from her chair but she wasn't necessarily surprised after the pathetic way he tried to hit on her. The boy had no home-training. "He answered my phone, huh?" she echoed apathetically. There was no telling what nonsense he spewed to Stefan to get him all fussy but she couldn't even take O.G.D. seriously enough to be that upset about it. And she didn't think he should be rattled by it either.

Stefan seemed to share a different sentiment and his disgruntled tone made that very clear, grumbling scornfully, "Yeah. Said you were 'kickin' it' with him."

"Well, I was," Laura confirmed bluntly, hardly moved by his attitude since she saw nothing to be jealous about — O.G.D. only _thought_ he was smooth. "I just got back from that concert with him, Eddie and Max at the Sizzle. Y'know. The one _you_ were supposed to go to with us," she remarked accusingly, subliminally reminding him that he was the elusive one this time. She probably wouldn't have had to invite the guy out if he hadn't canceled on her … _again_.

But Stefan begged to differ. It was never his intention to bicker with her but if she insisted on going there, he was armed for the battle. Embittered that she had the nerve to throw more blame at him, he tossed back a snarky reminder of his own, "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I was supposed to give you 'space' while you're out kickin' it with America's Most Wanted."

Nice. She should've known he'd try to throw that in her face. "You're on the other side of the world, Stefan. Don't talk to me about 'space'," she rebutted with a sneer, thankful the statement meant he couldn't see the vicious narrow of her eyes right now. But he didn't have to because the tightness in her tone said it all. "It wasn't a date, I made that very clear to him. Besides, I can handle _Cornelius_ ," she emphasized rashly ...because it was just far more amusing to say his real name.

"' _Cornelius'?_ Heh-heh-heh…" Stefan parroted with a hearty chuckle since the reason for O.G.D.'s feeble-minded need to act hard became obvious. But not even his amusement was enough to do away with the fact that the waste-of-space hit on his woman — the same woman who seemed to prefer to be around losers nowadays. The shortsighted assumption that every guy _but_ him seemed to be sharing her company lately didn't sit well with him at all. Even if she hadn't kissed Steve, he still hadn't forgotten about the way she acted out at the Delta party. And he had a problem with that, as evidenced by the sarcastic jab he followed up with, "So, you gonna handle 'Cornelius' like you handled me the last time I saw you?"

… _Grrr._ And _that_ was the thing about Stefan that Laura found herself starting to repel. As silver-tongued as he could be when he spoke the language of love, his tongue was proving to be just as brutally sly when coated with acid. In all the time they'd been together, he never talked to her in the disdainful way he had been lately. And there were so many layers to that remark that she found insulting since 'handling him' clearly alluded to the way she loved him down something fierce that night only to reject him.

"Ugh, I can't believe you," she chided with an disgusted scoff. Not many people could strike a nerve in her that way, provoking her agitation to the point where her blood began to boil. While she was accountable for her mistakes, what she wasn't going to take was constant salt-throwing considering that she apologized to him a million times already. "You can't be _that_ jealous. He's just Steve's cousin and he's a nobody so _spare me_."

"I know who he is already, Steve told me," he retorted succinctly, unfazed by her irritation. They both gave Cornelius Eugene Urkel a piece of their mind for crossing the line and rightfully so since the jerk hadn't been shy about challenging either one of them.

"Huh...?" Laura's brows knitted in confusion, the implications of that fly-by statement briefly alarming her. "You talked to Steve?" she asked after a beat of lingering suspicion. Hearing that only made her wonder how these two could be conspiring against her this time.

"N-Nevermind..." Stefan retracted quickly, immediately detecting that she got that impression. But nobody was more disgruntled than he was by the fact that he had to go to Steve for answers at all when it came to his own girlfriend. After the madness they just went through, Stefan knew that the trust between them was on the verge of a major breakdown and he had to make his boundaries clear or she was destined to veer off the beaten path …and right into the arms of — _ugh_ , he didn't even want to think about it anymore.

Shaking off the nauseating thought as he paced his dressing room, he just heaved a sigh into the receiver, clutching the phone to his ear tightly as he laid out a firm stipulation, "Look, I don't care _who_ he is. I don't want you going anywhere else with him," he griped, cementing his demands with a snide assessment of O.G.D., "That guy is ignorant and disrespectful."

Even though she tended to agree with that assessment… if Laura remembered correctly, she already had a father. And she barely listened to the one that she had — did he really think he was just going to start imposing his own set of rules on her?

She scowled in disgust of his arrogance and popped up from the seat to start an agitated pace of her own around her room. "Oh, this is _juuust_ great, Stefan," she carped irritably with an exasperated flail. "I get grief from Mom, Dad, and Eddie all the live-long day — now _you're_ gonna start telling me what I can and can't do now too? What's your problem?!"

 _Blah, blah, blah_ … Yeah, Stefan wasn't hearing any of that. He just nodded to himself with an incredulous roll of his own eyes, gnawing his tongue patiently through her rant. And he quick on his feet with a clapback of his own when she was done. "My _problem_ is that you're too confused to make respectable choices lately," he chastised her tightly. He was through giving her the benefit of the doubt since that didn't bode well for him the last time. "Maybe your family has a _point._ "

 _SIGH._ She never wanted to hang up on him more, resisting the trembling impulse to tear her own hair out as her fingers raked across her scalp in frustration. Yup, this conversation was going nowhere fast and she was gathering the frayed threads of her tolerance.

"My choices are not _yours_ to dictate. I invited him to the concert because I can do that if I want to," she bit back indignantly, pausing her pacing to put her foot down. Her free hand planted itself on her hip as she sneered into her phone, her irked deflection firm and succinct, "My life can't just stop because your career puts distance between us, _like always."_

"My career?!" Stefan recoiled in offense before growling into the receiver, " _You_ were the one who —"

 _"Ten minutes,_ _Signor_ _Urquelle!"_

She blinked a little as his response was interrupted by a separate voice chiming out in the background… he must've been waiting to go on set. She couldn't help but roll her eyes again, the constant interference of his career serving to annoy her even more. It felt like they couldn't even get through a full argument anymore without something pulling him away.

Leering over his shoulder towards the door of his dressing room, Stefan quickly nodded to his production manager after she peeked into the room to sound-off his time. He paused his peeved response until he was left alone in the room again, secretly thankful that he was given a chance to get a grip on his attitude.

"Like I was saying _,"_ he gritted before calmly stepping through his fuming thoughts, "Weren't _you_ the one who told me I should model in the first place? Not to mention that you're _definitely_ the one that built this pointless wall between us." He knew just as well as she did that they were playing a petty game of ego-tennis. Even so, his irritation prevented him from letting another sardonic remark slip, "If you can't remember how it got there, refer to the checklist of guys you've kissed while we've been together." And the facts don't lie. To him, it was reason enough to be suspicious at this point.

 _...Okay, that does it. "_ Really?!" Laura seethed in disbelief, flabbergasted that he had the nerve to twist his knife of resentment even deeper. The last thing she needed right now was more stones flying over her head. She was tired. She was cranky. And she was over it. If this was how every conversation with him was going to go from now on, then she preferred not to talk to him at all.

" _Look_ , this is hard enough for me without you guilt-tripping me all the time!" she snapped at him, surrendering to her impatience before nearly closing the lid on all of this dissension once and for all, "If you _really_ wanna work things out, then you're just gonna have to accept what I'm going through! If not, then maybe we _should_ see other people —"

" _Laura,_ " Stefan interjected through a vicious grit, nearly snarling if it meant she would stop talking! ...Not only that, she was crazy if she thought he was going to let her break up with him and letting her even touch that thought was going against the grain of his entire goal for calling in the first place. Time to switch gears here and quickly.

"What?!" she barked in frustration, barely receptive enough not to hang up at this point… to her dismay, she was always compelled to hear him out, deflating with an annoyed scoff as the lingering silence killed her softly, awaiting the punchline. But her thumb was just itching the press the 'End' button on her cell if he didn't come correct this time...

" _..._ I have something to tell you!" he blurted after the beat it took to swallow his pride, his agitation welling in his throat as his tone gradually dialed down... only because he found them once again teetering on the edge of a cliff and he had to come to the rescue. Recentering his focus and redirecting the tension with a deep breath, he calmly beseeched her, "It's the reason I called. I don't have much time, so would ya just…hear me out for a second? Please?"

…He was the one pointing fingers! But as much as Laura wanted to vent that thought, her curiosity over the true purpose of his call marinated over another stretch of silence. She took that time to pace towards the nearest wall and flatten her back against it, calming her own temperament long enough to open her ears. "…Well?"

Stefan felt like he was suffocating on that silence. Not because he didn't think she would listen, but because he feared the pessimistic thoughts that rang in his head like a civil defense alarm. When he imagined this moment, it certainly didn't involve a scornful feud with the woman he loved. With their mutual frustration buzzing over the long-distance line, all he could anticipate in her reaction was more friction since she wasn't the only one with secrets.

He knew he had no choice but to finally let her know what was really going on... the _real_ reason why he was dispatched to Italy almost constantly. And he better do it now before he lost her for good. Whether it was the right time to tell her or not, it was an opportunity to get her undivided attention. "I wanted to wait to tell you in person... but, I'll just cut to the chase..." Considering the odds, he was propelled to shake the dice with bright-eyed ambition and there was no turning back.

"...My agent set up a meeting yesterday with one of Europe's most prestigious modeling agencies." _Finally_ after months of lobbying. His plan had been in motion for the last year or so and even though it seemed to have crashed and burned only recently, he was far too invested at this point. He kept the finer details to himself since he was eager to get to the meat of the news. "They've been watching me for a while and they wanna put my face on the map. They say my look is a money-maker because it's so unique. If they take me on, my first few clients will be... _get this_..." he urged, trying his best to rile her interests.

 _Blink_. Oh, Laura was listening. Intently. Her brows shot up curiously the moment he started talking, the annoyance crawling under her skin gradually dissipating.

"Louis Vuitton, Valentino, and _your_ personal favorite..." he crooned, drawing out the suspense to give her a chance to guess.

 _GASP_. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree! All she needed was a buzzer and a scoreboard. "Dolce and Gabanna?!" she squealed in excitement, her mind immediately deferring to all of the free crap that was destined to come raining down on her! She may have been bitter about how demanding his career was but there was no denying that the perks of being a supermodel's girlfriend were on another level… and it was certainly enough to redirect her focus as well. As quickly as they fell into an argument, it was forgotten almost instantly.

And Stefan couldn't help but smirk impishly, knowing for a fact that he'd reeled her in hook, line, and sinker. Tickled by her enthusiasm, he let go of chuckle of relief as the choking tension instantly lifted off of his shoulders like hot air, allowing him his first fresh breath of air all day. "You got it, Princess."

She wasn't surprised that he was a such a hot commodity and she already knew that this day was a long time coming. As irritated as she was before, all she could feel in that moment was thrilled for him. All of his hard work was finally starting to pay off. "Congratulations! That's big!"

And for the first time, he was finally getting excited about it himself. "Laura, that's _huge_." He had been on edge with the news ever since the possibility became tangible. And to reel in the hook even more, he listed off even more perks for her to eat up, "I'm talking tours, first-class flights — with cable, thank you very much — penthouse lodging, celebrity parties, award shows, fashion week, _designer wardrobe_..." he taunted, playing on her addiction to fashion.

And she had a buffet on it as she grinned whimsically at the vision she had of them strutting down the red carpet together. "Custom-made...?" she chirped hopefully, visualizing the details of the fabulous designer dress she saw herself wearing.

"Practically right out Louis' closet," he boasted, inciting another squeal out of her. "And the advance was offensive _._ I almost fainted when I saw all those zeroes. They're even gonna set me up with my own promotional spots."

"I'm so excited for you!" she praised, genuinely exhilarated that somebody around here had good news for once... somebody she truly cared about despite all of the static between them. Of course, she had no idea what it was supposed to mean for her. She loved the sound of those perks but in the back of her mind, all she saw more distance being wedged between them. But she didn't allow herself to submit to her doubts, allowing them to fade into the background long enough to cherish the celebration of his moment.

Stefan went from gnashing his gums to grinning from ear-to-ear — nothing made him happier than the sound of her excitement and his heart rejoiced... briefly. It was only as he began to reflect on how long it had been since he heard her so elated that another pin of regret stuck itself through his conscience. Because that wasn't the whole enchilada. "...There's just one _tiny_ catch..." he snuck in carefully.

"Uh oh." Her face went flat as her delight fled her spirit almost instantly, her muscles clenching as she anticipated a punch to the gut. Because there was _always_ a catch when it came to Stefan Urquelle and she should have seen _that_ coming. "…What is it?" she asked tentatively.

The moment she became skeptical was the moment his own rapture fell flat as he conceded to the anxiety he'd had about telling her all day. And so he opted for a clean, solemn rip of the band-aid. "They'll only represent me if I relocate closer to their corporate studio. Here. In Italy. They slid my agent the contract this morning and I... I couldn't say no."

… _She knew it!_ And yet she felt like a rug had been yanked right out from underneath her. "...You signed already?" she asked softly, blindsided by the fact that he didn't even bother giving her a heads up... _deja vu._

She thought all of the thick skin she grew the last time he left would be enough to soften the blow but she suddenly had little strength left to stay standing. Floored by the gravity of those words, she slowly slid down the wall to languidly collapse onto the carpet, weak with dejection. And she suddenly became aware just how invested in _him_ she had always been. It seemed like the more she tried to resist her feelings, the harder they boomeranged back to her. And now that he was leaving her, once again, she suddenly felt like she was missing a lung. "…Just a 'tiny catch', huh?"

"It was now or never; I had to make a decision," Stefan explained delicately, trying his best to ease her disorientation… but he didn't necessarily think there was any reason to be discouraged about it. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I was being scouted, I ...I wanted it to be a surprise."

"A surprise?!" Laura squawked incredulously... because that made absolutely no sense. Why he thought this would be a treat for her eluded her completely. " _Why?_ Y'know, I would have preferred a Gucci purse," she quipped irritably, reinforcing her displeasure in the tactless way he was breaking this game-changing news. As far as she was concerned, any strategy she thought she had in getting this relationship back on track just shattered to pieces.

"...B-Because I-I want you to come with me…" Stefan stammered guilelessly… he thought he'd made his true intentions pretty obvious. In fact, he found himself slightly displaced by her apparent shock. Did she really think he was referring to all of those wonderful perks just for himself?

Laura couldn't help but scowl in disbelief, his stunning proposition jarring her back to life as her blood ran cold through her veins… He was sending her through a ringer of emotions right now because somehow she hadn't seen _that_ coming at all. "To _Italy...?"_ she squeaked timidly, unsure whether or not to feel enticed by that offer or scared to death by it. Either way, one major obstacle kept her from exploring the possibility because she had obligations of her own. "I'm still in school!"

But apparently Stefan had been mixing his own brew for God knows how long by the way he cavalierly laid out the game plan, "I know but by the time you graduate, everything over here will be settled. You can ship your things here beforehand and you won't have to do anything after that but get on a plane."

 _Oh, boy._ Squirming and cringing with agonizing uncertainty, she knew she was being put on the spot to make a decision and it suddenly felt as if the temperature in the room shot up a thousand degrees.

And she didn't even know why. She'd been aching to experience his upscale life with him for so long and now she suddenly regretted the fact that she hadn't been more careful about what she wished for. The opportunity was right at her fingertips but for the life of her, she was hesitant to seize it. Automatically riddled by the impact of his 'surprise', her first reaction was to chastise him for jumping the gun so presumptuously. "…Did you think it was okay for you try to plan out my life without me? Stefan, we've been through this before!"

"And we can go through it again. Only this time, we could finally see the world _together_ , like we've always dreamed about," he retorted firmly, becoming offended by her resistance since this had been a recurring conversation throughout their relationship. He didn't necessarily feel like he was the one coming out of the left field when she was the one who was considering throwing everything they had down the drain.

And that thought riled his irritation all over again, suddenly gleaming with resentment as he bemoaned by her apparent lapses in memory. " _God_ , what happened to you, Laura? Was I the only one awake in our relationship all this time?! Didn't you tell me that if I ever had a chance like this that you would want to share that with me or don't you remember that, either?!"

"But —"

"Don't you get it? None of this was _just_ for me. I was always doing this for the both of us!" he ranted emphatically, pinning her down with the ultimate reality check. "You think I _wanna_ be here right now? You think this is fun for me — practically dying of exhaustion, starving myself to death, delirious from jet-lag, sweating like a pig under hot lights _all the damn time_ when all I wanna do is be with you?"

"...I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she conceded humbly as he unfolded his frustrations for her like a roadmap with no rebuttal at her disposal... because he was right. But secretly, she was suspicious that his permanent absence meant the chance of her feelings for Steve would soar to a zone of no return. And her biggest fear was that it was for the best.

 _"Five minutes!"_

Laura flinched as that intrusive voice rang out in the background again, snapping out of that abysmal thought long enough to address the heavy tension that had worked up between them again. Their connection seemed to be riding on extremes lately. And she desperately missed the balance being with him used to bring her. It made her wonder if the sacrifice was even worth it. "But... am I supposed to just be your accessory while you make it to the top? What am _I_ gonna do in Italy? And what about my family? I can't just leave them like that."

Stefan didn't give a damn about his shoot right now. Because he was on a mission to save his relationship before all of their dreams were squandered on what he thought to be a ridiculous phase she would learn to distance herself from. "You can do _whatever you want,"_ he urged her, countering her excuses firmly as he completely ignored his production assistant trying to get his attention. "You're always complaining to me how much you wish you could get some distance from your family and 'be on your own for once'." Her words, not his. But he also remembered the words she told him that night. The words that had him reeling with befuddlement ever since. "But that's not the reason, is it?"

 _Hell no it wasn't._ Not that Laura had any plans on actually poking that sleeping monster. "Well —"

"The real reason is that you don't wanna leave Steve. _Right?_ " Stefan blurted pointedly before she could deflect, his creator's name coated with venom as it rolled off his tongue. He knew mentioning him was off the table but he saw no other way to make plain the true obstacle in the mix.

...But as he predicted, Laura wasn't having it. And her tone went from timid to offended, drawing a bitter line in the sand. "...Don't you dare go there. And if _that's_ how it's gonna be, then there's nothing else to discuss."

 _Oh, really?_ What wasn't fair was the fact that she was treating their relationship like it was expendable when he always thought it meant more to her than that. Then again, she'd shown him recently that the scales had tipped.

He wanted to growl in frustration but he knew he would be pushing his chances by being aggressive... so he pulled back on his pride in order to get through to her, imploring her from the top to the bottom of his heart. "Okay-okay, I'm sorry, it's just... I miss you so much, Laura. I'm delirious without you — it feels like I'm wandering around in the dark. Baby, even if I made it to the top, there will never be a good day up there if you're not by my side. You have no idea how much I need you."

 _...Dammit_. She just loved it when he did that. But she had half the mind to despise him right now for being so dreamy. His charm had always been her kryptonite and she couldn't help but melt against the wall behind her, beguiled into a hankering, emotional mess as she felt her eyes stinging with welling tears.

She knew how hard all of this was on him but she had to wonder if he had any idea how torturous it was for her. She'd rather be blindfolded and shot right now than to make this decision. "Oh, Stefan..." she whispered, agonized by his affectionate plea as she drew her knees up to her chest to curl into herself into a ball of misery.

"I know you feel like you're always waiting on me and I'm sorry," Stefan continued, not even caring anymore that he'd been reduced to begging her. But he wasn't going to let up while they were so close to finally sealing the deal. "All I'm asking is that you just wait a little longer and I promise we won't ever have to be apart again. I love you and I still want you with me every step of the way. You're my everything, Laura Winslow, and I _cannot_ do this without you. I won't. Please come to Italy with me..."

 _SIGH._ Laura lifted her free hand to smash over her face in exasperation. Steve was right. This _was_ impossible. She suddenly wished she had ahold of that damn potion herself. Because no matter how hard she tried, her heart felt almost shackled to Stefan and it was really no wonder that she kept running back to him over and over again, just like her mother said.

But as much as she wanted to say yes and tell him how she loved him too and reassure him that his efforts weren't in vain... she couldn't. The words were lodged in her throat to the point where she couldn't even draw a breath and she chose to swallow them before she asphyxiated.

All she could spit out was her overwhelming doubts instead, her voice wavering with uncertainty, "Stefan... this is a huge decision to make and I do wish it was as easy as it used to be, that we could just put everything behind us but …everything's so complicated right now. I just... I don't know. I'm gonna have to think about it."

But not right now. Wincing on the aches of nausea that suddenly pulsed through her, she felt an overwhelming impulse to rush him off of the phone before she was forced to give absolutes of any kind. "I'm sorry, but I really can't talk about this anymore. And neither can you. You've got a job to get back to." _The voice says so._

...And Stefan was floored. Too bad she was right. He couldn't argue with that even though his heart depended on it. He became weak with his own bout of nausea around the same time she did, his thoughts darkening as the possibility of living the rest of his life without her suddenly became too surreal for his liking.

He wanted to ask her why she was doing this. He wanted to pull every last trick he had left to break her down. But all he could do was deflate with disappointment as he sunk miserably low into his chair. Shutting his eyes as he pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose in defeat, he conceded reluctantly after a harrowing beat of uneasiness. "...When can I see you? I'm coming back to Chicago after the holidays, can we at least talk about it then?"

 _No more questions!_ Laura almost wanted to seethe at him in frustration but she nearly gnawed her tongue off trying to keep her tone apathetic, cringing with regret as she realized she had to push him even further away from her to keep herself from succumbing to his spell, "We'll see, okay? I gotta go, Stefan."

"Laura, c'mon —"

"I'll call you tomorrow. Good night." With that, she pulled the phone from her ear before she was forced through more of his torturous pleas, destroyed by the pain in his voice as it reverberated through her brain like a migraine.

"Wait-wait, don't —!" he tried to protest eagerly... only to be decapitated by the sound of the dial tone, confirming to him that his Stefan-ized magic no longer worked on her. Considering that every woman within a five-mile radius was after him... it was pretty depressing that his own girlfriend wasn't chasing him anymore. His heart became so heavy that he was convinced that it was going to fall out of his ribcage. "…hang up…"

But before he even had a chance to process that disaster of an endeavor, his production assistant pulled herself into his dressing room once again to catch him staring despondently at the receiver in his hand, frozen by his deeply disturbing thoughts as his gaze slowly swiveled between the phone his favorite photo of Laura sitting on the vanity desk next to him.

She paused with concern for about a split second before the clock compelled her to do her duty. "Signor? We need you on set now."

And he really couldn't care less. But what was he going to do? Quit? He was in a foreign country and he was only here to do a job. As much as he wanted to throw that damn phone at the assistant in that moment, he opted to calmly settle it down on the cradle of the landline... but otherwise not moving a muscle. "...All right, I'll be there in a minute..." he murmured distractedly as he continued to stare at the photo.

But the production assistant was not concerned with why he wasn't moving fast enough. She just needed him to move. And she urged him sternly through the pretentiousness of her thick, Italian accent, "Signor, we have a schedule to keep —"

"Are you deaf?! I said, _in a minute!"_ he snapped viciously as he glowered at her like she was his worst enemy, becoming just as fed up with this dumb career just as much as Laura was. Because like he'd just said, without her... none of it meant a thing anymore.

But when he saw the affronted look that crossed the assistant's face, he heaved a heavy sigh of frustration as he deflated in the chair yet again. _Stay professional, Stefan. "_...I'm sorry. Just... gimme a second to catch my breath first, _please_ ," he appealed calmly... which did enough to get the girl out of his face so that he could gather his wits for this stupid shoot.

As for Laura... she could officially say that this entanglement of contradictions was, by far, the hardest thing she'd ever been through. Way harder than advanced calculus. She also found herself lost in the darkest depths of her discouragement as she stared at her phone, wishing she wasn't such a damn coward.

...And the moment Steve crossed her mind to counter every single affectionate, enticing thought she had about Stefan, the man who literally just made her wildest dreams come true... she launched it with all of her might across the room. And it was a goner, hitting the wall and shattering onto the carpet. She curled back into herself, willing herself to just disappear as she broke into a fit of tearful sobs.

It suddenly made sense to her why Greek tragedies always ended in suicide. It was a good thing she wasn't Greek. But she was luckier than she thought she was — who else could say their personal nightmare involved choosing between two of the most attentive and romantic men on the planet? All she wanted right now was a beer.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 25_


	25. Mano A' Mano

_**Chapter 25: Mano A' Mano**_

 _Summary: Laura's indecisiveness keeps her trapped in the neutral zone, causing Steve and Stefan to encounter a little friction._

* * *

 _ **A MONTH LATER**_

A new year was supposed to bring promises of new beginnings but Laura felt unworthy of a clean slate this year. Where did her childhood go? She could remember a time when her resolutions amounted to nothing more than superficial pleasures and finding a new car under that tree would have been great. But all she really wanted was a flashing sign that would point her in the right direction, bow-wrapped and hand-signed by Santa himself. Or maybe Jesus.

To her profound relief, the holidays ended up being the antidote to her anxiety. Or rather, the perfect excuse to distract herself from her personal life. Working in the mall and staying occupied with running holiday errands kept her from thinking about the bombing raid that Stefan dropped on her, freezing her heart in suspended animation.

But of course, he always reminded her again whenever they spoke... which led her to keep the frequency of their phone calls minimal in order to avoid the issue as long as she could. She didn't want to touch the thought of pursuing her wildest dreams with a fifty-foot pole... because doing so always included the thought of never spending the holidays with her best friend again.

Especially after the memorable Christmas morning they spent together when they exchanged gifts and sang carols with her entire family. Not to mention that Steve hit her with a pretty mean case of the feels when she saw the gift he gave her parents — a framed portrait of her and Eddie that was so stunning that she could've sworn she'd seen sparkles softly cascading off of it. And to add insult to injury, the present Steve gave her was so devastatingly sentimental that not even her stubborn resistance of him could repel the value it had to her.

He'd given her a bound scrapbook that contained every love letter he ever secretly written to her from the time they were in kindergarten to the present, neatly sourced with notes and doodles in the margin regarding date and circumstance…including the farewell letter he'd written to her when they stopped talking in the third grade. And it was eerie taking a peek at herself through his eyes — it was like reading about some otherworldly, mythical beauty that human eyes were unworthy of beholding. And she was incredibly touched by it.

She secretly spent an entire week afterward perusing it from cover-to-cover, absorbed by Steve's knack for poetic expression that was crafted so passionately that it nearly brought her to tears every time. It was still hard for her to believe that she could be the object of such raw devotion in spite of how she used to treat him. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out a proper way to thank him. The keyboard she'd given him seemed stale and far less meaningful in comparison.

As for the gorgeous bouquet of red and white roses, a shimmery champagne-colored cocktail dress, and 2-carat diamond earrings Stefan sent her from abroad... it only served to riddle her with guilt at the fact that she hadn't even thought to get her own boyfriend anything this year for some reason. Maybe it was the symbolic nature of this 'space' between them. Maybe it was the fact that he had everything a man could ever want already. Maybe she was just bitter about the fact that she had to spend yet another holiday without him.

Actually, she feared that extending herself too much in either direction would persuade her to lean one way or the other. And she'd rather just tight-rope-walk the thin line between what her heart wanted and what her heart needed... even though she knew it was a matter of time before she'd have to take a plunge either way.

* * *

Spending time with Steve certainly didn't help her confusion considering that the past few weeks was like watching a butterfly wiggle out of its cocoon. He seemed even more driven to blossom into himself, even going so far as learning how to cook hibachi-style in order to improve his 'focus, coordination, and dexterity'... which was a laughable ambition to anybody who knew him — juggling knives in front of a hot stove was like walking on water to most people, let alone a guy who was well-known as an accident waiting to happen.

Even so, Laura made it a mission to be supportive and show up at his cooking debut. She was secretly rooting for him despite the fact that he'd broken or spilled something several times already that day. His arms were covered in so many bandages that he was a few strips short of a mummy as it was. But as doubtful as she was that he'd pull through, the very fact that someone let him work in their restaurant at all was enough to keep her hope afloat.

Much to her astonishment, not only did he do a fantastic job, but he made it look like he'd been a slice-and-dice master all of his life. Little did Laura know, it was her very presence that anchored him, giving him the concentration he needed to not only succeed, but blow her away with uncanny skill, creativity and precision.

"What a night..." sighed Laura as she walked through the back door into the kitchen of the house after the journey home from the restaurant. She wasn't surprised that Steve nearly drowned the place with a water hose trying to put a fire out. The shocking part was that he didn't even start the fire this time. There was hope for him yet… _Thank God._

Steve was close behind her, shutting the door once he made it inside and he gave a nod in agreement, huffing in relief that he survived to fumble another day. "You can say that again... I almost blew away your weave," he quipped, grateful that Mr. Tanaka was such a forgiving man — he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been chased out of an establishment after nearly destroying it. Thankfully, the man was wise and old enough to get the place insured for flooding. If _that_ wasn't the markings of a perfect night, Steve didn't know what was.

As disoriented as he was from the chaotic grand finale of his performance, he was eager to do something about the grittiness causing discomfort in his drawers with every step he took. "Well. Good night," he said he grabbed the bottom of his coat and gave it a rattle, "I have to go shake the rice out of my pants." With that, he headed for the kitchen door to excuse himself.

"Uh... Steve, wait..." she beckoned before he could go too far.

And he perked and eagerly spun around quicker than a top to address her the moment she spoke. "You wanna come _help?"_ he asked provocatively with a hopeful twitch of his brows. He had been dying to ask her for an honest critique of his performance all night but he didn't want to come off as desperate this time… which never stopped him before, but he'd found out recently that exhibiting subtly, and even a little resistance, was a much more effective method of getting her attention. That didn't mean he wasn't ready to pop like a rusty spring at the tiniest inkling of a hint that he was in her blind-spot.

Laura caught herself trying not to stare at him as she pensively reflected on his budding potential. The entire ride home, she caught herself marveling at the unrecognizable chameleon Steve had become almost overnight. She remembered how basketball was one of the only other things he'd learned to do gracefully and secretly, watching him fly like butterfly and sting like a bee on the court had always been exhilarating since it was so far out of character for him. But watching him dominate a hibachi like a vegetable ninja was stimulating, to say the least.

Actually... she found his emerging confidence more than stimulating… it was _arousing._ And she couldn't stop herself from acknowledging that no matter how much her better judgment screamed at her not to throw him a bone. She also knew that he didn't hear it enough and this time around, he definitely deserved it.

But she played it cool, ignoring the bashful flutter in her gut that his proximity had been serving her these days. She knew better than to be _too_ enthusiastic — the last thing she wanted to do was mislead him again. Especially not when all of these daunting life-decisions were casting shadows of uncertainty all around her. " _No_ ," she replied tersely to keep things transparent, softening just enough to express genuine pride in his effort to accomplish the impossible. "I just wanna tell you, um... you really impressed me tonight."

…Well, as far as Steve was concerned, that was a sign that one of the heavenly angels just got their wings. "I did?" Unable to help himself, he swelled with a humble mix of delight and sheepishness, a coy smile springing to his lips. He couldn't remember the last time she'd praised him in such a way without beer and spirits coursing through her veins. It must've meant her heart really did have something to say and he was her loyal sponge.

"Yeah. I always think of you as, well... very clumsy." That was like accusing a zebra of being striped but even some zebras come with spots. Sometimes being proven wrong was a thrill. "But the way you cooked tonight, it was...it was really cool." Well, that was the best way to put it without pushing the envelope.

"'Cool'?" he echoed optimistically, beaming at her with a face-aching grin. Because she was pushing it whether she wanted to or not — with every affirmation from her, his hope accumulated another layer of durability.

"Yeah…" she admitted, waiting on some form of rebellion from her conscience that never came. As much as she wanted to dodge the warm feelings he was evoking in her, she felt compelled to let the truth fly free and it was a relief to let her heart speak out for once. "I'd even go so far as to say sexy."

…There was that word again! Only this time he didn't have to scan her brain to pick up on it, which must've meant his luck was on the verge of tipping dramatically. " _'Sexy'?_ " he drawled with a prideful sway. His brows wiggled mischievously as he relished in the gratifying insinuation that her crush on him was definitely alive and well despite how reserved she'd been. And the thought that he'd not only impressed her, but managed to light her fire as well was incredibly tantalizing.

Of course it was sexy. What woman didn't like a man who could cook? One who could do it surgically was even more awe-inspiring. "...Very," she admitted, beyond any wall of a doubt at this point. For a split second, it made her wonder _what else_ he could learn to do gracefully...

"Uh, Laura..." Steve croaked timidly as he took a sheepish step towards her.

"Yeah?" she asked, snapping out of her daydream before it could carry her mind away to scandalous places.

"...If you'd like, I could... chop some vegetables _right now_..." he offered suggestively, twiddling his bandaged fingers as his eyes speculatively bounced in his head. It seemed like a good idea to take some initiative in that moment now that he knew that his chef-wizardry was a guaranteed way to turn her on. And you better believe he was looking for the switch.

It seemed no matter how hard Laura tried to pull away from this new lens she saw him through, all of the things about him that used to annoy her had become his most charming traits, including the cute and dopey way he tried to flirt with her. "Let's not cheapen it with additional produce..." she teased with a wink, stifling the grin he managed to evoke from her before he could actually talk her into it. Because she just might say yes one day.

* * *

 _ **A FEW DAYS LATER**_

Even though they hadn't really talked about their little dilemma in depth since Steve found out about Laura's feelings, the subtle hints she'd been dropping hadn't been lost on him. What eluded him was an answer that didn't require a grey-area analysis. It was as if he was patiently waiting for her direct permission to tell Myra to get lost since he knew pulling that trigger prematurely would only tip the cheese off of her cracker.

But he began to wonder why that consent never came despite the signals he was volleying back at her… especially since he could still detect that sparkle of reverence in his lady love's eyes when she looked at him, even though she tried to hide it. It kept his hope burning brighter than ever, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't become a little concerned that she was beginning to ignore her heart all over again.

…That much was more or less confirmed when he noticed Stefan making scattered appearances around the house here and there out of nowhere over the last week. The man had mysteriously disappeared after the night they traded places, which was a tad confusing considering how passionate the gut-wrenching spectacle of them kissing appeared to him. Then again, Laura had sought him out to spend time with him only a few days later... and even cuddled with him. So it all begged the question of whether this little love triangle of theirs was worthy of Freudian dissection by now.

Especially during moments like this, when all he wanted to do was catch up on a documentary about arachnid mating practices but could barely keep his focus tethered to the television, distracted by Laura and Stefan's muffled voices quarreling from the kitchen. He had no idea what they were saying but being caught in a web of curiosity and cynicism had him squirming for relief from the impulsive itch to press his ear against the door.

 _Meh_. He already learned a brutal lesson when it came to privacy and decided to resist the urge to eavesdrop this time…and it wasn't easy. But even as their conversation became more coherent, he remained on his best behavior, pulling two styrofoam ear-plugs from the breast pocket of his shirt and stuffing them in his ears. Sighing with relief as the sound of their bickering was remedied with silence, he sank into the couch cushions and continued to merrily munch on the bag of corn puffs in his lap... only to scowl when he realized he couldn't hear the TV now. _Rats._

Meanwhile, behind the kitchen door, Laura was trying to talk her jealous boyfriend down... for the gazillionth time. "Stefan, it's just a Christmas gift. Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this?" she groused as she leaned against the island counter adorning the shimmery cocktail dress he got her... in fact, she was clad from head-to-toe in his presents, also sporting the earrings he bought her along with the glass slippers she kept from his Disney World proposal. See, she was trying!

"Oh, you don't want me to go there. Trust me," Stefan grumbled callously as he stood in front of her wearing a three-piece suit with a champagne-colored vest that matched her dress. They were on their way to a fashion charity event — their first date out in more months than Laura cared to keep track of anymore. And even so, it had something to do with his career, as per usual. Honestly, she would have preferred the drive-in. But _nooo_.

Instead, she was squirming in these uncomfortable panty-hose, trying to avoid yet another head-on collision with him. ...Although, she probably shouldn't have left Steve's scrapbook on her bed, all out in the open for him to stumble upon. The cover had a recent picture of two of them and once Stefan's curiosity was seized by it, so was his patience. She didn't want to be confrontational but she saw the merit for his disapproval, which was her humble reason for addressing him as patiently as possible. "Y'know, this attitude of yours is getting _really_ old," she informed him curtly before pushing herself from the counter and dismissively heading for the living room door.

"Don't make me the villain — I don't have one 'just because', Laura," he retorted with a grit of his teeth, also exhibiting his best show of composure since the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their date night. But seeing a bunch of collages and love letters from Steve when he barely got a phone call from her for Christmas was beyond irritating and he wasn't going to let his displeasure slip past her. "We're supposed to be working things out and yet you're still pushing me away — it's not fair and I don't like it," he expressed tersely as he following behind her, his hands calmly dipping into the pockets of his slacks.

...So he had a point. This very argument was the first meaningful exchange they'd had since he told her about Italy and that was no accident. But Laura was getting disgruntled with the underhanded ways he was getting that point across lately... like trying to influence the direction of her future without her input. Huffing a sigh, she balked just short of pushing the living room door open to toss her retort over her shoulder, "What's not fair is the way you're trying to hold me responsible for something I never agreed to," she replied firmly, referring to the way he was baiting her with the possibility of a new life in Italy… and she skillfully shrouded the fact that she wanted to say yes _soooo bad_. But the frustration of having to make so many sacrifices in the process was powerful ammunition for ongoing deflection if it would mean delaying a clean break through the thin ice she was skating on.

And every time she skipped around the issue, Stefan wished he had a pistol on hand so that he could shoot himself in the foot. Becoming exasperated with her unrelenting stubbornness, he rubbed his face in annoyance to get a grip on the unraveling threads of his tolerance. His motives for taking that preemptive plunge had started way before he knew there was a chance she'd say no. But it was starting to feel like he should've had an eight ball nearby when making those plans because she continued to make it seem like he was one who was stepping in mud puddles.

All of this dissension damn near pushed him to the edge, resisting the urge to just make things easier on her and throw in the towel right then. But whenever he was reminded of the emptiness he felt just by the idea of her not being in his life, he was compelled to power through the trial of fighting for her no matter what… but he knew he would never get through to her if he didn't adjust his approach. Besides, it was clear to him that she was looking for a reason to deny him and he refused to give it to her. So it took a beat of thick, pensive silence, a defeated sigh, and a few uncomfortable shifts from one foot to the other to feel calm enough to speak again. "Laura... I _thought_ it was what you wanted."

She could've just called it quits to spare them both the pain of having to choose at all — the crossroads her mother warned her about kept creeping up on them at every turn. And yet her courage continued to escape her and she wanted to wilt every time she thought about letting him go. That stuck-in-quicksand feeling she'd been carrying around had only gotten stronger, leaving her stranded in a distressing space of vacillation where her only option felt like emotional stagnation.

For the moment, she foolishly elected that option as the most likely one to keep her steady. It felt like forever since she'd last seen him and try as she might to find every reason in the book to deflect his anger, she knew it was justified considering the hoops she had him jumping through. And because she knew he was right, she couldn't find a decent rebuttal if her life depended on it. "…Ugh, I don't wanna talk about this right now — are we going to this stupid thing or not?" she conceded dismissively with a scoff of frustration, turning to push her way through the kitchen door into the living room.

"Oh, _now_ it's stupid," was his disenchanted reply, following behind her through the door. When he told her about this event months ago, she was practically drooling at the chance to gawk at fashion professionals. Then again, so many things had changed between them that he shouldn't have been surprised by her defiance. "You never wanna talk about it. We can't just keep tossing our relationship on the back-burner."

 _Blink-blink!_ Since the closed caption button on the remote wasn't working, Steve had been absorbed with intently reading the lips of the interviewers on the television but his entire endeavor to remain an uninformed third party evaporated almost instantly when the quarreling couple inattentively entered the living room. He stiffened self-consciously on the couch and quickly plucked the plugs from his ears to avoid explaining why he had them in the first place, just barely catching the tail-end of Laura's tight response to Stefan.

"Well, you should've thought about that before you —" she balked, slightly startled by the unexpected sight of Steve on the couch, her words leaping back down her throat as she paused her gait. "…Oh. Hey, Steve," she greeted timidly, wondering how much of their argument he heard. She could've sworn her and Stefan were home alone or she would have made sure that they didn't cross paths. Ever since the night they traded places, it felt like the fabrics of her universe would implode whenever they were in the same room together. Apparently, the tides of luck were working against her in that regard.

But Steve didn't dare look their way… not directly, anyway. He wanted to appear as indifferent as possible but he managed to sneak a few peeks at them out of the corner of his eye long enough to offer an upbeat greeting. "Hi, Laura! Hiya, Stefan!" he chirped brightly before popping another puff in his mouth.

Stefan didn't bother adjusting his affronted stance just because Steve was there. In fact, his alpha-male instincts kicked in the moment he spotted him. He just took a suave, swagger-tastic stroll to Laura's side and slipped his arm possessively around her waist. _Just to make a few things clear._ Squaring his jaw and tonguing his cheek, his curt reply was about as polite as a shank stab. " _Urkel_."

 _...Really?_ Laura couldn't help but shoot Stefan an admonishing glare, narrowing her eyes up at him. _Someone_ was reeking of insecurity. But what could she really say? It's not like she didn't understand why he was so miffed. It didn't mean she was in the mood to deal with the jerk in him that she was getting to know a little too well these days. "I left my purse upstairs," she murmured at him with a grit of warning as she defiantly pulled herself out his embrace, leaving his arm hanging in the cold, and she bee-lined for the staircase. "Hold on, I'll be right back." With that, she quickly ascended the steps to fetch her purse... and perhaps take a moment in solitude to gather her wits.

But the tension seemed to fly right over Steve's head... possibly because he was trying to ignore it. He merrily popped another puff in his mouth and kept his eyes glued forward as Laura left them to choke on the uncomfortable silence ...that is until he felt the glare of a thousand suns burning a hole into his head. He was suspicious that if he took the gamble to peek that he'd stare into the face of hate itself. But there was no need to be rude.

Sure enough, the moment his gaze swiveled to Stefan to acknowledge him, he saw nothing but frustration and resentment in his stare... and for a second, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of compassion for his counterpart as he watched him meditatively pace the living room in deep thought. As the man's creator and clone, he knew him in ways that nobody did, including Laura. And he knew Stefan only got this upset under one condition — when he genuinely felt threatened.

...And that notion was kind of appealing since it was pretty difficult to ruffle the man's feathers. It only served to reinforce the depth of Laura's feelings because Steve never thought he'd see the day when Stefan's temperance would be pushed beyond the impenetrable boundaries of his notorious coolness... then again, it took over a decade to get his lady love's attention in the first place; miracles can happen.

Steve also noticed that they were both dressed to the nines... which wasn't out of the ordinary for Stefan, but Laura was a fan of jeans. He knew matching formal attire always meant an extravaganza of some kind was on the horizon and he was sparked with curiosity. It became the perfect avenue into some form of cordial conversation with him. "Lookin' spiffy, my man! Going out?"

"That's none of your damn business," Stefan replied scornfully as he continued to slowly walk out his frustration, feeling the dissolution of the last few months crashing down on him in one fell swoop. Gnawing his tongue impatiently, his hands once again found refuge in his pockets.

"...All righty, then." Well, if Steve didn't feel the tension before, the fog of it was pretty thick now. He wanted to offer the poor guy a corn puff but he had a feeling that he'd get the entire bag dumped on his head. Shrinking timidly, he carefully settled the bag on the coffee table just to prevent the disaster he saw unfolding. In the meantime, he wasn't one to let animosity linger without looking for a solution. The scientist in him wouldn't allow it.

Grabbing the remote, he turned off the television to give his counterpart his full attention. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked formally before cheerfully extending the olive branch. "Whatever's bothering you, I'm sure we can resolve it like men!" ...If that wasn't double-speak of the century. He knew exactly what the problem was... he just wanted Stefan to say it first. And considering that Mr. Cool was slowing inching up on his boiling point, he didn't expect him to hesitate.

And he was right because it was Steve's aloofness that pushed Stefan even closer to the edge. Fortunately, his calm composure remained intact for Laura's sake. "Are you serious?" Stefan sneered incredulously as he stopped pacing long enough to turn towards Steve to address him with a sarcastic jab, "Did you forget that you kissed _my_ woman and got her all confused or are you just a struggle-bus driver in disguise?"

...Yeah, Steve expected as much. Unfortunately for Stefan, he had promised himself the night he'd unveiled his secret to her that he would never hold a guilty bone in his body again about loving her the way he did. It was like denying himself the will to breathe. And despite his own 'situationship', he'd never hesitated to make that clear and he wasn't going to start now. At least he was polite about it.

"Well... the way I feel about her shouldn't surprise you, Stefan." Standing from the couch, he circled the coffee table to firmly stand on his truth before his counterpart. "And for your information, she kissed _me_ ," he reminded him with an animated point at himself. Facts were facts. But it felt necessary to keep his own feelings as transparent as possible to prevent anymore confusion. "...And sunk me to the bottom of the ocean like a rare jewel, might I add," he followed up with as he stared off into space whimsically. But he didn't get too careless with his daydreams... just his words. Gazing back at Stefan, he couldn't help but get a little lost in his pride as he shot him a haughty smirk, "But is it my fault that she thinks I'm a hunk? Look in the mirror, my man. You'll see what I mean."

 _...Dork._ Stefan just gave him the side-eye and shook his head ruefully. He couldn't even believe they were having this conversation right now. But his raging insecurities definitely had him bursting at the seams at this point. Huffing a heavy sigh, he glumly vented outrage in this entire situation as courteously as he could. "Brotha, you must be dreaming if you think I'll _ever_ be cool with this. I can't even believe that I have to compete with _you_ , of all people."

The way Steve saw it, he had a feeling his years of tenacious pestering weren't the reason Laura suddenly shifted gears on him. And if that was the case, he was just as much the victim of her profound confusion as Stefan was. Sympathizing with that, he metaphorically painted the picture for him, "Well, I wouldn't call it a 'competition'... _per se_. It's more like we're last on the draft, waiting to be picked for the best team. Only the one that's picked gets the championship ring automatically." All he could do was give a cavalier shrug because life was unpredictable that way sometimes. Besides, he could appreciate it when the stars aligned in his favor every now and then.

Predictably, Stefan disagreed. And his shoulders stiffened in offense to the implication that this was all a big game to him. But he humored the metaphor just to make a point. "Yeah, well, the game's rigged," he renounced solemnly before stating a prime example of the foul play at hand. "You see her every day. You got to spend Christmas with her. I've had to settle for scraps ever since this whole thing started."

"Even so, she's always so distant!" Steve griped in reply as he considered the advantage Stefan would always have over him as the significant other, whether he was thousands of miles away or not. Laura's hesitance definitely saw to that. And as usual, his wistful thoughts were artlessly expressed aloud, "At least you still get to do all the things I wish I could do."

 _Blink_. Stefan's gaze instantly zeroed in on Steve with the narrowed-eyed glare of a predator, taking a stalking step towards him... and Steve found himself cowering under his shadow like the prey of the day as he back-peddled. "But rest assured!" he recanted firmly with hands lifted submissively. He didn't want to give the man the wrong impression! "I'd _never_ act out on my feelings that way."

That didn't mean he wasn't going to stand his ground. The last thing he wanted to do was have a confrontation with his own creation but unlike Laura, his heart never let him deny his own truth, no matter who was on the other end of receiving it. And he stood in it proudly, impishly quirking a brow as he followed up his innocence with a cheeky slip-in. "Not without her permission, anyway..."

...And the thing that enflamed Stefan's sensibilities more than anything was the fact that she was likely to give her permission at all. His gripes had been expressed to Laura about it as they should have been so far. But in that moment, the real obstacle in his way was standing right in front of him... and it was a little eerie since it was like facing-off with a warped version of his own reflection. Perhaps that was more symbolic than he wanted to admit.

"Good," he replied tersely as he took another step towards Steve to draw a line in a sand. The way he saw it, it wasn't Laura's permission he needed anymore. So he laid down the deal-breaker as he candidly sized up his creator-turned-opponent with a stern and forthright warning, "Because if you don't keep your distance, a problem _will_ develop. And not one you wanna deal with anytime soon. It's not like you've got the brawn for it," he challenged, shooting him a disparaging look.

" _...Oh, reeee-eeeaaaa-aaalllly?"_ Steve belted dramatically after the recoiling pause it took to absorb the insult. Well, he didn't see that coming. Did Stefan feel so threatened that he had to resort to violence now?

For some reason, that thought only ignited Steve's determination to the point of matching his counterpart's aggression with the fuel of pure spite. And so his poise stiffened, suddenly struck with the same fearlessness he'd felt the night of his cooking debut. He might not have been much of a fighter but the one thing he couldn't stand was a bully. And if Stefan thought he was going to let him start pushing him around, he had another thing coming. "So _that's_ how it is, eh? Is that a threat, Sir Struts-A-Lot?" he retorted tightly and took a daring step towards Stefan in acceptance of the challenge.

"That's a _promise_ ," Stefan corrected brazenly, compelled to cement his warning with the hard feelings rapidly stirring between. "And I suggest you move on before it comes to that." ...But then he blinked as if a light-bulb had suddenly switched on in his mind and he couldn't help but scowl in confusion as a discrepancy came to him. "Wait, come to think of it, aren't you with Myra?"

"Technically, but that's always been up for debate," Steve replied indifferently without hesitation, clearly unaccountable for the fact that he was a bigger dog than he thought he was. And the fact that he had Laura tethered to him when he had his own girlfriend practically crawling after him was just murder to Stefan's ego and the icy cold glare he shot Steve was enough to make him shudder... just a little.

Sure, Stefan was a tough guy — genetically, he compensated for all of the physical strength Steve lacked. But as far as Steve was concerned, he'd already been through every type of pain there was and so the threat of another clobbering hardly moved him. That didn't mean he wanted to be blatantly boorish... not without durable logic to back him up, anyway. "Look, Stefan…I mean no disrespect. I know she's your girlfriend and you have every right to be upset," he began steadily as his stance softened submissively... but only briefly. Becoming staunch in an instant, he subliminally threw out one variable in particular that gave him a certain advantage, "But _scientifically speaking_ … I saw her first."

 _Ha!_ Stefan just scoffed with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "Oh, that's cute for you," he belittled with a taunting smirk... before continuing his tempered steps towards Steve to assert his dominance, the anger he'd been choking on radiating off of him like a hot furnace. Only this time, Steve didn't move a muscle as he was confronted. In fact, he found himself scowling right back at him as his fists curled, his chest swelling as Stefan sneered at him indignant insults, "But I was in first place before I even got here, _homeboy_. Thanks to your 'brilliance'. Man, you're so pathetic, it makes my ass itch."

...Well, then! Don't start nothin', won't be nothin'! Steve was practically the poster-child of that saying and Stefan's building impudence was his cue to dial up the pressure. With a little gall of his own in tow, he boldly called his bluff. "Oh, yeah?! Well, I'm just glad I'm placing at all, _runway_ - _boy!"_ he spat back defiantly, leaning forward to put extra emphasis on the clapback. "You're gonna be in for a big surprise when the odds against you hits ya in the rashy backside!"

"Yeah, you would know about odds, wouldn't ya?" Stefan replied scornfully and proceeded to roast through his own account of scorching facts with a vicious narrow of his eyes. "Just like you knew the odds of never having her for yourself when you made me, _genius_. Why else would I be everything Laura _really_ wants and can never get from you? You made your bed, man. And if you think I'm gonna let your scrawny behind come between us after all this time, then you must not know your own inventions very well."

"That's where you're wrong, Calvin Klein!" Steve retorted brashly, starting to feel his own ire begin to vibrate under his flesh as he was motivated to stand his ground with every degrading remark Stefan made. Who did this Frankensteined sack of flesh think he was?! "I know _pleeeenty_ , including the fact that our 'behinds' are _identical!_ At least mine is itch-free and powdery-fresh!"

"Oh, you got jokes," Stefan mocked with a devilish smirk, thumbing his nose once he felt himself slowly losing a grip on his patience. And they both took a step towards each other with every exchange of vilified words... to the point where they were eventually almost nose to nose, reviling each other through guttural sneers. "Won't be so funny when you get dropped like the third wheel that you are and beat down like a dusty church rug."

"Oh, I _daaaaaare_ _yooooou_ , you disrespectful little _specimen_ ," Steve taunted with a sizzling glower before sealing his rebellion with a warning of his own. "Laura will send ya right back to the petri dish you crawled out of quicker than you can say 'doppelgänger'! Newsflash, Versace: I'm not scared of you!"

"Then I suggest you try harder, Tinkerbell, because you _should_ be," Stefan growled menacingly, stepping _all the way_ in Steve's face with a stare that could wither roses.

But Steve just mirrored him with a low snarl of his own, his top lip curling viciously as he pierced daggers into his creation's hateful eyes. "Why, I oughta — !"

"You 'oughta' _what?"_ Stefan challenged with a gnashing grit...

"...Hey! What are you two doing...?" interjected the angelic, deeply concerned cadence of Laura's voice from the staircase, immediately snapping the two of them out of their pissing war... neither of them wanted the object of their dispute to actually witness the discord since it was only bound to stir more confusion for her. And that was the last thing either of them needed. So for a split second, all they could do was scramble to a quick recovery, silently exchanging a yielding look that triggered a mutual stand-down.

" _Nothing_ ," they insisted in perfect unison and stepped apart as if an invisible rope that tied them together had been severed. They spun to face her and began reluctantly calming the turbulence between them as they spotted her frozen on the mezzo platform, scrutinizing them with a bewildered stare.

And Steve immediately picked up on the disturbed knit of her brows as her gaze shifted between them, silently inquisitive. His mind quickly deferred to the easiest lie he could think of... even if there was no way he could know for certain just how much of that she really saw. "...Boy-talk!" he blurted impulsively, feigning cheerfulness even though he couldn't keep his voice from wavering with uncertainty. "Sports! Y'know, cricket, bad-mitten...!"

 _...Ugh. Couldn't just say basketball, could you?_ Stefan resisted the urge to roll his eyes since he had bigger fish to fry at the moment. "Y-yeah, yeah... just a few... _words_ between men, Princess. Nothing to worry about," he insisted calmly, somehow mustering a sincere smile. Managing to put his irritation on a leash, he put on airs of butteriness in order to support the lie since he refused to stand here and explain what just went down right now... though he had a feeling he'd be prodded about it for the rest of the night anyway.

Shifting gears to focus his attention on her, he gallantly stepped to the foot of the stairs to offer his elbow for her to latch onto on her way down. Because it was time to get the hell out of here. "Ready to go, baby?"

But Laura just gave him a crestfallen stare. This time, she was more than just irritated with him for his behavior... she was disappointed. With a despondent sigh, she just rolled her eyes and dismissively descended the rest of the stairs without his help, defiantly brushing past him and completely ignoring his escort offer as she stalked towards the front door. And without another word or a look to either one of them, she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

 _Blink_...left hanging for the umpteenth time tonight, all Stefan could do was scowl as he helplessly watched her exit, deflating with his own bout of discouragement as he recognized the hot water he'd gotten himself into. Boy, this was gonna be a long night. Shaking his head ruefully, he languidly dragged himself towards the door to follow after her.

" _Smooth.._." Steve remarked sarcastically after the beat of silence it took to absorb Laura's defeated reaction, totally not appreciating the fact that his lady love's feelings were hurt. And he definitely blamed Stefan for that outcome. Looks to him like the poor bloke was starting to lose his magic and he didn't hesitate to snidely point that out, "By the way. Right Said Fred called. He said he wants his sexy back."

"For what?" Stefan retorted as he stopped just short of pulling the door open, grabbing the knob as he tossed a snarky remark of his own over his shoulder. "Hope he doesn't think _you_ can borrow it without needing an ambulance." Dismissive to the entire situation at this point, he began to pull the door open to step outside.

And to that, Steve had one very powerful weapon of truth at his disposal. " _Laura_ seems to think so." _BOOM_. Total knockout.

...And he could tell immediately that he'd hit a major nerve by the way Stefan balked mid-step on his way out to spin towards Steve and shoot him a glare that would make a giant whimper. Gnawing his tongue as he clung onto the last threads of his patience for dear life, he calmly snapped the wrinkles out of his lapels before issuing a final token of advice. "...I'm warning you, Steve. And it's the last time I'm gonna say it — stay the hell away from _my woman_ or we're gonna have more than words."

And with nothing more to say, he finally crossed the threshold and furiously slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Steve to wallow in the trembling silence of his own ire. "...Oooooh, I'm shakin' in mah knickers!" he yelped angrily towards the closed door... only to shrink away slightly in hopes that Stefan hadn't heard him... he talked a good game, but secretly, his shorts were sweating.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 26_


	26. Smoke Signals

_**Chapter 26: Smoke Signals**_

 _Summary: Steve considers the best of course of action when Laura's attraction to him becomes too powerful for either one of them to ignore._

* * *

 _ **A WEEK LATER**_

Steve should have been outraged by Stefan's obstinate threats. Or at least spiteful enough to provoke his counterpart into digging his own hole. But ever the peace-keeper at heart, he didn't allow his clone's mud-slinging to rattle his chains… especially not after taking note of Laura's disheartened reaction to their little tiff.

Of course, she tried to question him about what she saw that night when answers from Stefan rang hollow. And Steve found himself betraying his own rulebook by parroting Stefan's denial, adamant that there was no tension between them whatsoever. He knew that the truth could end up frustrating her to the point of tossing them both to the wolves, just as she almost did the night they traded places.

It was hard to tell if she believed them or not but it became clear to Steve that the proverbial ball had unexpectedly bounced onto his court. Although he abhorred the thought of lying to her, if he had to bend his own moral code to calm any hostility threatening to rip them apart, then so be it.

Besides, his patience had always been his most durable tactic when it came to wooing Laura. And only time would tell just how lucky he was, especially since his lady love's fickle nature was proving to be relentless. After everything, she continued using her denial like a reflective shield of protection from her feelings over and over again… until one day, that shield shattered before his very eyes...

It was a morning that started like any other, with Steve graciously acting as the in-house mailman. Finding Laura and Eddie making sandwiches in the kitchen as he sifted through the pile of envelopes he got from the mailbox, they were initially unresponsive to his announcement of a sweepstakes win he found in the stack… the legitimacy of which went right over his head as he mindlessly tossed the 'junk mail' into the wastebasket next to him.

"Uh-oh!" he perked in excitement, plucking out a few pieces of mail that were branded with the University's logo and each of their names stamped across the front. It could only mean one thing! "It's judgment day! Our report cards are here!" And his announcement immediately spurred Eddie and Laura's attention as they both frantically scrambled to his side to snatch their mail from his hands.

"Ooo-oo-oo, gimme-gimme-gimme! I'm dying to see what I got in advanced calculus," Laura urged as if she were on pins and needles, anxiously tearing through the envelope to unveil her report card. Underneath all of the chaos transpiring in her romantic life, she had been diligently using her studies as a sanity anchor. She was pretty eager to see how she fared through the storm.

"Yeah! And I'm dying to see what I got in subatomic nuclear micro-biotics!" Steve concurred with a bright grin. To him, a sweepstakes prize had nothing on progress reports, especially when he thought about all of the crazy breakthroughs he made last semester.

The only breakthrough Eddie made was showing up to class long enough to catch the last ten minutes of each lecture. His record of laziness throughout the semester left his anticipation running a little thin. "I'm dying to see what I got in volleyball!" he chimed with a coy smirk, plucking his envelope from the stack to follow suit with unsealing his academic fate.

And as their grades were revealed to them, Steve and Laura grinned radiantly from ear to ear, instantly washed in a warm spotlight of relief. "I got straight A's!" she announced brightly, inciting a celebratory cheer from Steve and they both became wired with excitement. Jumping for joy, it almost felt like second nature for her to hop right into his embrace when he took the gamble on congratulating her with his arms outstretched.

"Ooo! And I got straight A-pluses!" Steve chirped with delight, triggering another moment of shared praise as they victoriously bounced into another hug with cheers of triumph. ...Being a straight-A-plus student all of his life, he wasn't as enthralled with his report card as he was with the fact that her 'accidental stumbles' into his arms were becoming more and more unmindful these days. Boy, he hoped so.

As for Eddie... his discouragement was drowned out by the beaming celebration next to him as he stared in horror at his grades with a dispirited grimace disguised as a hopeful grin. "...I got straight C's!"

Laura and Steve parted ways with their collective jubilance long enough to peer at Eddie inquisitively with a complacent shrug. Well, that didn't sound too bad!

"Except for these three D's...!" Eddie lamented, deflating like a popped balloon as his demise became self-evident. Especially since he knew damn well that he was only taking four classes.

… _Yikes_. Well, _that_ was bad. All Laura and Steve could do was exchange a knowing wince. But even with Eddie's predicament looming over on him like a rainy cloud, it didn't really rain on _their_ parade. Still buzzing with elation, it was pretty difficult to commiserate with him beyond a few sympathetic nods.

"Well, buck up, Eddo! Volleyball is a _lot_ tougher than it looks," Steve belted with enthusiasm as he landed a reassuring pat on his shoulder. He couldn't necessarily relate but he tried his best to humble up enough to offer a little encouragement. But containing his excitement in order to appease his best bud was a no-go at this point ...especially not while rejoicing the precious moment at hand. And the grand slam in mind had nothing to do with his grades.

He couldn't believe how in-sync he'd been with his lady love today. They were laughing together. Smiling together. _Touching_ each other without overthinking it. All _without_ Stefan's permission. And he had to wonder if he was the only one who noticed...

After a beat of dejected silence, he sheepishly wiggled his brows at Laura because the silver lining was worth acknowledging. "…We've got straight A's!" he chirped with a wry grin. In response, she broke out of her own feigned sympathy and shuddered with another excited squeal, shamelessly relishing their mutual success before scampering away together through the swing door into the living room, taking their victory party with them.

Poor Eddie. Left alone in the kitchen, all he could do was helplessly stew in his shame, privy to the fact that these grades meant his Dad would make him tie his own noose later. This wasn't a report card. It was a ticket to his own execution! ...Or maybe his ticket _out_ of the disgraceful prison known as the public education system.

As Laura crossed the living room with a giddy bounce in her step, she beamed with satisfaction and resisted the impulse to hug the piece of paper to her chest like a plush teddy bear. But she wanted to hug _something_ , that was for sure. "I'm _so_ relieved," she said with a contented sigh as she stopped by the coffee table to pivot in Steve's direction, "I thought I was gonna flunk that final for sure."

"Oh, hogwash, my little love dumpling!" Steve chimed with conviction as he followed behind her in equally bouncy spirits, pausing in front of her as she turned to face him. "Give yourself credit — I always knew you could do it! You had it in the bag the whole time!" Of course he believed in her. As far as he was concerned, Laura Winslow could fly without wings and make it look effortless.

She begged to differ, of course, but she just absorbed his encouragement with a modest shrug of one shoulder. She had always been an honor student but she was genuinely surprised that she managed to pull off straight A's while failing all of these romantic riddles that left her dazed with anxiety almost constantly. Needless to say, advanced calculus turned out to be a hell of a distraction.

...Or maybe _he_ was the distraction. He'd volunteered a lot of his free time the month before finals to tutor her after she found herself spiraling into the no-focus zone. And that was in spite of the disorienting tension that had become so strained that they may as well have been studying with a glass wall wedged between them. …Not to mention the fact that she knew Stefan had antagonized him, which still had her reeling with concern even though she couldn't know for sure what was said; she'd only really seen them snarling in each other's faces. It looked kinda brutal. And yet he never let any outside influences stop him from salvaging his precious connection with her.

And she swelled with gratitude as she reflected on the unapologetic way he always came to her rescue. In that fleeting moment of fulfillment, she found herself unwilling to impede the tenderness developing in her heart for him. He was truly one of a kind. "...Actually, _you_ deserve most of the credit," she mused graciously, unable to help herself as she fancied him with a warm smile.

… _Oh, that smile._ It was like staring into the face of God every time he was honored by that gorgeous smile. But he tried his best to play it cool as he felt his heart skip a beat, his eyes averting to the floor. "Ohhh... _now, now,_ it was no big deal," he insisted with a coy smirk and a dismissive swat of his hand, his shoulders bashfully hugging his ears as he turned beet red. The thought of taking a shred of credit from her was akin to committing treason and so he quickly tossed the limelight back to her as he insisted the contrary, " _You_ did all the work, babycakes; all I did was lend you my dome."

What Laura realized in retrospect was that their study time had been the only few hours a day of escape she could find away from the maze of confusion she'd built around herself. As adamant as she used to be in ignoring his efforts, declining to acknowledge him in that moment felt like a crime. "C'mon, Steve. For weeks on end, you've skipped dates, science club meetings… you even pushed aside your own study time just for me. We both know I couldn't have done it without your help," she insisted humbly as she ambled in his direction, gradually closing the gap between them.

For a guy who was rarely celebrated in his own right, she admired his unique ability to be so selfless… it was inspirational. Or, dare she say… _sexy?_ By the suggestive way her gaze drank him in, slowly scanning him from the flood of his pants to the reflective shimmer of his glasses, it was safe to say that the thought had crossed her mind. "How can I ever thank you?"

…Well, that was quite the open-ended inquiry. Worshipping her like the empress of his reality meant that her compliments were all the validation he would ever need…that and the way she was staring at him like he was a delectable dessert. His brows twitched in surprise, captivated by the slinky sway in her step as she approached him. He nearly melted him through the carpet once she was close enough to bless his nostrils with her flowery aroma. By the time they were barely separated by an inch, he felt like he was standing in the middle of a poppy field.

"Oh… uh... well, I —" he stammered in reply... only for his staggered thoughts to be abruptly muted by the sensation of her pliable lips possessively capturing his, inciting a flail of utter shock as her hand gently gripped his jaw to hold him hostage to a kiss that melted his underwear.

As he realized that her affection wasn't a waking dream, he found himself free-falling into the arms of paradise. His hands ever so hesitantly settled on the arc of her waist as she drew him into her spell and it took every shred of strength he had left to keep his knees from buckling. Instantly intoxicated by the taste of her lips, his shock was quickly replaced by the most satisfying thrill he'd ever felt in his life.

 _Yooowwser..._ He felt his veins course with lava as her tongue parted his lips and began to lovingly dance with his own, their kiss shamelessly deepening as they surrendered to the moment. It was like time had stopped altogether. Their flesh became so heated that neither of them noticed the report cards in their hands emitting smoke until the paper began to pop and crackle like a Fourth of July sparkler, eventually crumbling right through their fingers until it was reduced to ashes.

After what felt like hours of convincing himself that he hadn't died and gone to heaven, Steve felt their lips parting as his eyes slowly blinked open to meet her sultry gaze, their lids heavy with unquenchable desire. " _Whoooooaaaaa, mama_ …" he purred breathlessly, the falsetto of his voice diving to a chesty baritone as it usually did when his shock was too great to manage. His heart was pounding so hard that he just knew it would punch a huge, gaping hole right through his chest any minute now.

As they slowly peeled apart, Laura felt delirious. It was as if she'd been feeling around in the dark in search for him only to realize after fifteen years that he was standing right in front of her the whole time. By the time she opened her eyes and took a deep breath to stabilize her wooziness, she regretted it. Not because she'd just made the same mistake again. But because after months of tricking herself, she became very aware of the charade she'd been trying to salvage and the line was so blurred now that she could no longer distinguish it. All she knew was that there was probably no turning back from crossing it this time.

But she gambled with back-tracking since it was starting to feel like she'd lost all control of her impulses and needed an exorcism. "…Oops. Lost my head there!" she chirped with a nervous, not-so-innocent chuckle before shrinking meekly into herself with a guilty wince, taking a timid and reluctant step back from him.

Steve was just trying to keep from blacking out at this point. He felt the blood in his head rush to his ankles and he began to unravel into a dizzy spell that had him swaying dangerously off balance. Nearly tripping on his own legs as they gave out like silly-putty, he somehow managed to catch his footing and steel his posture with deep, stabilizing breaths as Laura looked on in concern. But he refused to pass out this time. At least not before he got a little clarity here. Because after he was catapulted to the moon and back, he'd land on his feet only to suffer a disorienting case of deja vu.

Clearing his throat and straightening his glasses on his nose as he blinked away his vertigo, his stunned gaze swiveled to her to make a bashful appeal. "Uhh, turtledove? …My love, my pet?" he crooned while bewitched by her beauty, mesmerized into a stupor… only to give his head a vicious shake to rattle some focus back into his brain. The battle between his weakness for her and his suspicions read all over his face as he struggled to gather his wits, speaking slowly and calmly, "…Let me preface this by saying that my complaint box is _completely empty_ so don't take this the wrong way. But…can I… ask you somethin'? _"_

 _Oy._ She felt like shriveling beneath his bewildered stare, blinking as it dawned on her that she was luring him into the same traps over and over again. "…Yeah?" she asked barely above a tentative whisper as she braced herself with a cringe of uncertainty.

Despite how hopeful Steve had been that his luck would change, he couldn't help but be plagued with suspicion because this glorious moment was far too abrupt, surreal, and unexplainable for his liking. As a result, he was brought to one speculation in particular that mustn't be overlooked. "Are you _tanked_ again?!" he blurted skeptically, gaping at her with a scowl of disbelief. The way he saw it, either she'd tossed back a few mimosas for breakfast or she'd officially flipped her cap.

 _Ugh. She wished._ A tiny part of her also wished that he hadn't stayed conscious long enough to call her out because now she found herself tongue-tied in search of a decent answer that didn't involve pleading temporary insanity. _"No!_ I-I was just …trying to thank you, b-but … my mouth… slipped," she faltered sheepishly, her shifty eyes pleading with the four walls around her for some type of validation for her flimsy explanation. If only these walls could talk.

"Oh, _puh-leeeeaaaaase_ ," Steve refuted with an incredulous roll of his eyes. He knew better. And he knew _she_ knew better. "If that was just a lip-slip, then why was your tongue using my uvula as a punching bag?" he challenged with haughty sarcasm, only to roll into a disingenuous rant about the alleged safety risks involved, "When 'thanks' is _that_ mind-blowing, it should come with a warning — we could've burned the house down, y'know! Not to mention, we'll have to send for new report cards now…" he murmured as his eyes bashfully lowered to the ash pile at their feet… but only because looking into her eyes again might destroy him.

"I know _,_ " Laura conceded apologetically with a rueful shake of her head as she submitted to the shame of letting her desires rule her reactions… for about a split second before it dawned on her that the agonizing clench in her gut wasn't guilt at all. It felt more like an insatiable yearning that ached to be quelled. And she was giving into that appetite more and more. "…I guess we'll just have to be more careful next time…" she muttered sheepishly, giving an innocent shrug as her eyes wandered around the room.

...Huh?! _Next_ time?! He hiccuped with a startled gasp as he was jolted by the subliminal suggestion of those words _…did he hear that right?!_ He'd been trying to reel her in for months now but his smoke signals always seemed to go unnoticed. Now, all of a sudden, after nearly bringing him to his knees, she was insinuating that there was _more_ 'thanks' where that came from.

Okay, _something's_ gotta give. Growing solemn as he took a few pensive steps in her direction, he took it upon himself to probe for a straight answer… even though he felt too flabbergasted to even articulate the question, "Laura, are you… is this… are we — ?"

She knew what he was getting at — there was no point in prolonging the suspense. "I don't know!" she interjected with an ambivalent squirm, hugging herself when she realized that she still felt conflicted with the answer. Even though her stubborn armor was shedding layers as the moments ticked by, she could only seem to express more ambiguity. "Maybe…"

...Steve still couldn't believe his ears. Or the savory taste of her strawberry lip-gloss still coating his lips _...the taste of sweet victory_. Even though she still wouldn't give him a yes or no answer, his dream come true had never felt more realized. As far as he was concerned, the most anticipated moment of his life just dropped out of God's hands and landed at his feet. And yet, for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to polka his heart out just yet. He had his doubts, alright. "But… aren't you just gonna pretend like this never happened tomorrow?"

" _No_ , Steve," she pined persistently, her threads of resistance unraveling.

"Well, how do I know that?!" Contrary to the agitated volume of his voice, he wasn't actually _mad_ … just deeply concerned. The thought of that mountain-moving kiss being their last grievously crossed his mind as he recalled what she told him several times now: friends was all they would ever be. Her track record of rebellion continued to prove that much after all.

But her heart knew better. It was swelling against her ribcage with every breath she took, crying out to be heard the longer she looked at him. "I made a promise to you, remember? And I meant it," she said softly as her tender gaze found his. Her eyes shamelessly examined the obscure ruggedness of his features as she slinked forward to close the tense gap once again.

She knew that he had grounds to have her sued for romantic perjury at this point. But all she could do was keep that promise to him. Because she was tired. Tired of invalidating this new woman she didn't recognize in the mirror. Tired of feeling guilty about her feelings for him. Tired of trying to fool herself into believing those feelings weren't real.

Most of all, she was tired of lying to him. If anything, her deceit had only brought her right back where she started — standing before him at odds with herself as she had several times before, wondering why he wouldn't just shut up and kiss her already. She'd finally conceded to the fact that this weird, intense attraction to him wasn't going away anytime soon.

So she sighed deeply in surrender as her denial took flight from her. She'd been blind for a lifetime and she ached for her senses back. _Screw it all._ "Besides..." she whispered to him as her hand reached out for his and stepped into him as if they were suddenly magnetized. "...How can I pretend anymore when I can't even stop thinking about your lips...?" she confessed breathlessly as her opposite hand gently landed on his chest with a gentle caress along the button line of his shirt.

… _And there you have it._ Steve's brows shot up in astonishment, rendered speechless as she made her intentions crystal clear. And his skeptical resolve weakened the second she boldly pressed her lithe body into his, instantly entrancing him with her alluring suggestion as his hormones gradually overwhelmed his shock.

Well, in _that_ case… he figured he might as well give her something else to think about. What did he have to lose except his spine when Stefan snapped it in half like a twig? And that would happen _after_ Myra mangled him and shipped his body parts up the Chicago River. As daunting as those thoughts should've been, his aggressive desire to have her all to himself overruled his restraint the moment he had her irrefutable consent. God was giving him quite the break right now and he relished every rare second he got to be this close to her. Needless to say, he couldn't care about the consequences right now if he tried. Clearly, Laura shared the same sentiment.

An impish smirk slowly graced his features and he flirtatiously laced his fingers through hers as they disarmed their doubts. She smiled back softly as they relaxed against one another, losing themselves in each other's eyes as the world around them faded away. His opposite hand lifted to gently cup her cheek, the pad of his thumb softly grazing the unbelievably smooth texture of her flawless chestnut flesh... wow, she even _felt_ like a dream.

If only he knew that she was thinking the same thing about him. But the way she gently nuzzled her cheek against his palm was enough to let him know that they were on the same page here. Funny how things change. Here was the most ungraceful guy on the planet sweeping her off her feet in a way that was almost frightening... _deliciously_ frightening. And it made her wonder if _she_ had been the clumsy one in this equation the whole time.

Unabashed as she surrendered her weight against him, her eyes slowly fluttered shut as she allowed his alluring scent to captivate her, finding a thrill in the unexpected ways he continued to surprise her. Resigning to their mutual desires as the weakening dam of resistance finally broke, he moved his hand to the back of her head to slowly reel her in for the ultimate steal. He had a little 'thanks' of his own to give and he had every intention of taking her damn breath away.

...But just as Steve was going in for the kill, Eddie's disgruntled voice rang out through the kitchen door, unceremoniously trashing their precious moment. "Awwww, man. _That's_ why I got a 'C'. I didn't know I actually had to _take_ the final…" he whined as he entered the living room, frowning at his report card in disappointment, rudely interrupting their impassioned exchange. "It's volleyball! You'd think that'd be optional on a Friday," he bemoaned with a rueful shake of his head, initially inattentive to the ground-breaking scene before him.

 _Doggone it!_ Alarmed by Eddie's unexpected intrusion, their lips barely brushed together before Steve was shaken by a reflexive impulse to recover before they were caught red-handed in another steamy lip-lock! Compelled to play off the unlikely way their bodies were precariously molded together, he quickly rushed to pick apart her eyelid to pretend like he was clearing an obstruction for her. Sucking in a dramatic breath, he started frantically puffing air into her eye.

 _Ow?!_ What the heck was he doing?! Agitated by his frenzied reaction, she jerked herself away from what should have been another trip to the moon. Instead, he was taking it upon himself to blind her and she was completely disoriented by the change of plan. _"_ Ack _— quit it,_ boy!" she hissed at him as she instinctively swatted at his hands to fend him off, irritably rubbing her stinging eye as they scrambled to peel apart.

"My bad, muffin!" Steve quacked remorsefully, wincing as she smacked his hands away and skittishly hopping away from her as he hurriedly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, scrubbing away the residuals of her gloss from his lips.

And it dawned on Laura why he freaked out the moment her befuddled gaze spotted Eddie by the door, instantly snapped back to reality as she timidly groomed herself, nervously fixing her hair and smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt.

Eddie looked up just in time to catch the tail-end of their erratic frenzy. Pausing in his tracks, his brows furrowed in confusion as he picked up on all the nervous fidgeting and he couldn't help but twist his mouth skeptically — it was pretty obvious they were hiding something. "Heeey. What's going on in here?"

"Oh, nothing-nothing-nothing out of the ordinary!" Steve rambled brightly as he spun to face Eddie with a dimpled grin, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck as he tried to hide the fact that his flesh was still sizzling with desire. "...Just taking in some sun!" he insisted candidly, eager to brush their romantic scandal under the rug. And he silently offered his thanks to God that it wasn't Myra who barged in on them.

"We're inside, Steve…" Laura murmured to him, aloof as she pointed out the glaring discrepancy of his claim, struggling to keep her own halo shining with a cheek-aching grin.

"…Right!" he belched in embarrassment as his eyes glibly bounced around his head, "I knew that. Absorbing some artificial lighting, then!" And just to demonstrate the innocent beauty of it all, he did a spin with his arms out-stretched, taking a deep, fulfilling breath of air into his lungs as if a field of roses had blossomed right there in the living room. "Yes, siree! Just enjoying the fresh air and counting the many fruits of our kisses — _blessings!"_ he squawked with a grimace, quickly correcting his flub-up when his stuttering brain betrayed him.

All Laura could do was face-palm while attempting to tame her rattled nerves and plot her escape from the awkward tension that suddenly fogged up the room. "…Uhhh…I-I'm s-supposed to go out with Max in about… five hours?" she stammered, skillfully donning feigned apathy as she carefully tip-toed towards the staircase to begin her antsy ascent up the steps, "…So...better start getting ready! I'll just be, uh... y'know... _upstairs_... doing my makeup... and junk."

Sparked with perplexity, Eddie peered up long enough to knit his brows at Laura when that math didn't quite add up. "For _five_ hours?" he challenged, calling her bluff.

Stopping on the platform, she just gave Eddie a flustered look as her face turned bright red. " _Whaaat?_ You could put an eye out with those little brushes!" she insisted earnestly, her voice chiming with bells of innocence. "So... that's where I'll be..." she uttered sheepishly with half the mind to sprint the rest of the way upstairs. But she couldn't help but pause her escape once her eyes landed on Steve again, instantly enchanting him as he stared back at her adoringly. And they both felt their unspoken yearnings electrifying the air between them.

She wanted to avoid explaining the elusive motive behind her little 'slip-up' to him in front of her brother... because his guess would be as good as hers. That didn't mean she wasn't aching to pick up where they left off this time. And so, in spite of her reservations, for the brief moment that their eyes connected, she was compelled to drop a subtle and enticing offer on the table. It was up to him if he wanted to seize the opportunity. "And Steve? If you wanna count more 'blessings' later... I'll be available," she hinted with a wink before slowly climbing the rest of the way upstairs.

 _Ooooh-la-la…_ Steve wiggled his brows suggestively, locked in a trance at the sight of his lady love slinking away. It was a long shot but he tried his best ignore the party in his pants as he suppressed the urge to shuffle in celebration once she disappeared.

But before he had the chance to boogie-down, a few dots connected in Eddie's mind as he witnessed their exchange. And he was instantly baffled because he hadn't seen her be _that_ nice to Steve Urkel in... _never!_ "Whoa, hold up..." he mused in a daze as he shot Steve a pensive scowl of confusion. It was like watching an elephant skate on ice. "...Did I just lose a few brain cells or was she just... _flirting_ with _you?"_ Just completing sentence felt like speaking a foreign language. This looked suspiciously like another Woo-Woo Juice 'snafu'... was Steve up to his old antics again?

 _That_ must've meant he wasn't crazy because Eddie saw it too! He was on his way to salvation on a chariot of fire because _Cupid has spoken!_ "Cooooooorrecto-mundo, Eduardo!" Steve rejoiced with explosive delight as he beamed with the shine of a million comets. "Butter my buns and call me a biscuit, but if I didn't know any better..." He gave a deep sigh of satisfaction as his arms spread with a wide flourish, tipping his chin to the heavens with his eyes shut as if indulging the freedom of being soaked in a rainfall, declaring jubilantly, "I'd say that the Lords of Horrid Luck have _finally_ given up!"

...Yeah, Eddie was pretty sure that Steve had dropped his common sense in the toilet of a Heartbreak Hotel somewhere. "Oh, I don't think so, Steve," he said with a doubtful shake of his head. There wasn't a notion in the world that would convince him that his sister was of sound mind if she really had the hots for Steve Urkel. Besides, he was holding an omen right in his hand that suggested horrid luck was alive and well. "This report card says otherwise."

...Oh, c'mon! Steve euphoric high deflated and his arms dropped to his sides in defeat, twisting his mouth at Eddie in response to his skepticism. He was getting disgruntled that he was still trying to convince people his fifteen-year venture had the possibility of finally bearing fruit. "Uh, _hellooooo_ , don't you see what's happening here?! The impossible! The inconceivable! Why, the single most incredible breakthrough known to man has come to past!"

"Oh, yeah? You finally get that eel fin out your teeth?" Eddie asked dryly as shot him a blank stare.

Steve distractedly balked his fanfare when he realized this was an important task he had yet to conquer. "Not yet, actually... thanks for reminding me..." he replied wistfully as he paused to tongue at the said fin still wedged in his gums after three days. Thankfully, Laura's tongue hadn't ventured _that_ far back there. He needed some floss, _pronto_.

Blinking, he focused back on the subject at hand. "Anyway, that's not what I'm talking about! I meant _Laura!"_ Beaming with excitement, he leaned towards Eddie to proudly unload the ultimate enchilada. "I think your sister's falling in love with me, man!" At least... that was his suspicion. Those eyes... _and_ those lips... spoke to him in ways her words never could.

But Eddie knew just how hair-brained his suspicions had been in the past — this certainly wasn't the first time he'd made this extravagant claim. And every time he stepped into the land of delusion with such conviction in his eyes, Eddie couldn't help but be tickled by the hilarity. "…Heh-heh-heh-heh _-heeeeeeeh_..." he chuckled heartily, breaking out of his deadpan stare to shudder with delight as he gave his knee a gleeful slap. "Oh, man. You crack me up, Steve. I needed that laugh. Thanks," he said as he recovered from his giggle-fit, grateful that he managed to take his mind off of his own doom for a brief moment.

Steve just flailed in defeat. He was really looking for some insight, here! "I'm serious, Eddo! Those 'come-to-mama-and-shake-me-down' eyes are real, I swear it!" he appealed earnestly, following behind Eddie towards the front door as he began to stroll towards it. Maybe he'd be more convinced if he drove the point home with cold-hard facts. "In fact, we had quite the tonsil-talk before you barged in here and ruined my blessing! What does _that_ tell ya?"

Eddie threw a look of disgust over his shoulder at Steve as he approached the door. Did he really need to know that about his own sister? "First of all, _ew_ ," he said with dry revulsion before rolling out his sound reasoning for why he wasn't buying it. "Second of all, flirting doesn't mean a thing. If she was in love with you, the skies would be dark with winged pigs and cows _right now_." And just to prove his point, he grabbed the knob of the door and pulled it ajar, gesturing at the brilliant rays of sunlight that poured into the room. Just to make sure, he peeked his head out of the door and peered up at the clear, blue skies for any evidence of floating farm animals. When there was none, he shot Steve a sarcastic grin. "Nope. No livestock in the forecast today!"

Okay, that didn't help him. In an instant, he got trapped in a mind-loop of uncertainty, his eyes shifty as he considered the frightening implications of this breakthrough. If Laura _was_ in love with him, he would be navigating unfamiliar waters. Should he go make a move now? Or wait until the thorns in their situation had been removed? If he waited, would the opportunity to cash in on his blessings slip by him? All of the answers seemed too easy just a moment ago when his mind was too foggy with desire to concentrate...

"Oh, but what should I _do_ , Eddo?" he bellyached, becoming flustered when it occurred to him that he had _no_ idea where to take his victory from here. "When it comes to Laura, I've never even been out of the dug-out before — I didn't even consider what comes after the home run!" Technically, he'd only made it to first base, but…

"…Maybe because baseball's not your game. Stick to hoops — you won't strike out that way," Eddie suggested with an apathetic shrug before abandoning his interest in the topic altogether because it was _that_ inconceivable. Eyeing the paper in his hand instead, more concerning thoughts crept into the forefront of his awareness — he knew his Dad was going to roast him on a kabob skewer when he saw this report card. "Speaking of which... think I'm gonna go down to the court for a little while to clear my mind," he said dejectedly as he ambled out of the door, stuffing the card in his back pocket.

 _How encouraging._ "You don't believe me, do you?" Steve asked with a rueful shake of his head.

"That wasn't obvious?" Eddie quipped, his shoulders shaken by another incredulous chuckle. "Heh-heh. The lies you tell."

...Yeah, Steve figured as much. He recognized that even if Eddie did believe him, his mind was obviously occupied and he probably wasn't the best beacon for advice at the moment. Oh, well! At least _one special somebody_ was certainly starting to take him seriously and that was all he needed to feel satisfied. He just gave a cavalier shrug. He knew what he saw _and_ felt — he was there when she stuck her tongue in his mouth! And as a scientist, he also knew that sometimes the hypothesis explained itself... not to mention that now he was convinced that was the first time he'd ever experienced a kiss-induced fever. He made a mental note to record his thoughts on _that_ surprising phenomenon later.

The idea that she was weak in the knees for him opened up a new world of possibilities... as did the very enticing offer she'd left on the table. And his chest swelled with confidence as the truth stuck out to him: he'd finally worn Laura Winslow down to the bare bones of carnal restraint. "Well, you should, ye o' little faith!" he taunted with a haughty smirk. It will certainly be satisfying when he finally proved everybody wrong. "Won't be so funny if I become your brother-in-law one day, mister!"

 _Oh, no. Anything but that._ Eddie couldn't help but shudder in rejection of that possibility, pausing his exit long enough to shoot a solemn request over his shoulder as he peered at him with fright in his eyes. "Stop it, Steve. You're gonna give me nightmares."

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 27_


	27. Knocking Down Heaven's Door

_**Chapter 27: Knocking Down Heaven's Door**_

 _Summary: Laura finds herself surrendering to her feelings more and more while Steve deals with the sobering reality that it'll be harder than he thought to make good on her offer._

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING**_

 _...When the hell did Steve Urkel get so irresistible?_ As if Laura didn't have enough riddles to sort out, that question became the single most baffling mystery she'd encountered since the night of the auction. She recalled how taking pity on him that night had accidentally resulted in satisfying a burning curiosity about her misunderstood friend that she didn't even know she had. It was as if his lips had become the missing puzzle piece to her insanity. Kissing him again had only proven to her that unseen forces of persuasion were tightening their stronghold on her. And now, she was reeling with concern that she wouldn't be able to escape this odd crush on him after all.

It was as if her heart was lashing out on behalf of every deprived woman who had ever allowed their desires to betray them and she tried to figure out why her flesh disobeyed her after months of running from her own shadow. A part of her suspected that Steve had secretly slipped a Woo Woo mickey in her orange juice that morning or something. Actually, that theory became irrelevant the moment she realized that she invited the possibility. Then again, he seemed as shocked as she was that she finally blew her house of cards down.

Seated on the edge of her bed with the scrapbook Steve had given her for Christmas opened in her lap, she pensively flipped through the pages of cut and pasted memories in search of a tangible diagnosis for her condition — one she was hoping to piece together by examining their lopsided relationship over the years.

She specifically recalled how everything about him used to make her want to claw her eyes out in frustration. And yet whenever she tried to compare the awkward, suspenders-sporting nuisance he used to be with the uncanny charismatic charm he embodied today, she was forced to consider that maybe the appeal had always been there, hidden deeply beneath the layers of her subconscious… especially when it hit her that many photos of them together showed just how consistently entangled they'd been ever since they were kids. Those pictures spoke way louder than any of the defiling words she used to spit at him.

If she hated him so much in those days, the disdain surely didn't translate. Quite the contrary. As evidenced by the collage of graduation, holiday, and class photos of them hugging and joking around, anyone who didn't know their history could easily assume that they had always been two peas in a pod.

As many times as she had perused that scrapbook, she couldn't believe this was the first time that she even noticed how possessive she'd been of him as her friend this whole time despite how much she used to denounce him. No wonder he was always chasing the tiger's tail. Jarred by this fleeting insight, she couldn't help but glower in shock as she internally berated herself for being so oblivious to her own self-absorption. The constant neglect she had been imposing on them both had finally rebelled against her.

She didn't really have to go out with Max that night like she claimed. But she certainly wished that she did. It would have been a perfect excuse to ignore the sense of longing twisting her gut into knots the longer she admired him in the photos, expelling a heavy sigh of emotional fatigue as nostalgia beamed on her like a warm wash of sunlight, wistfully trailing her fingertips over of the pages. No matter which way she tried to twist her rationale to favor her innocence, the truth was that she knew exactly what she did even though she was well aware that she was still creating her own cow pies to step in when it came to Stefan.

 _Oh, yeah... Stefan._ It wasn't a good sign that her ties to him suddenly felt like a distant memory. In the heat of her rebellion, he had completely slipped out of her mind… again. So did the lingering offer to join him in Italy — a dream come true that had haunted her like a nightmare for weeks on end. Those few moments of escape that Steve gifted her with had allowed her anxiety over such a huge decision to wither into insignificance. And she knew that the relief she felt as a result was a hallmark of her betrayal.

Despite the tinge of guilt that she felt whenever counteractive thoughts of her boyfriend found her, she simply couldn't imagine telling Steve that the indescribable bliss they shared earlier today wasn't real. He wasn't the only one who caught a fever.

Even though she felt conflicted over what her next move should've been, she couldn't help but periodically glance at her bedroom door in anticipation. It had been hours since she'd thrown him a line and he was usually quick to heel with opportunities like this. She was surprised to find that his lack of initiative had her feeling a little... antsy. Despite her best efforts to nullify her desires, everything in her wanted him to show up at that door and receive his 'blessing'… because she still felt the memory of his lips pulsing like a faint heartbeat against her own and she ached to prolong that magical moment.

If only she knew that Steve had been engaged in a contemplative pace to and fro outside of her bedroom for the last hour or so, nervously pondering over whether or not he should request access to the pearly gates. On the one hand, he was so anxious to follow up on her offer that he felt like shedding his own skin. On the other, his scientist mind couldn't curtail the possibility that he'd only contribute to the confusion by taking the bait.

Now that his moment of triumph had finally arrived, he'd never felt so ambivalent to seize the crown. Maybe because Stefan's threat to pulverize him still echoed clearly in the back of his mind. Maybe because he knew his own girlfriend was cooking up another scheme to derail his focus right now. Or maybe because he was still unsure whether or not she'd open the door just to slam it in his face again. All he knew for sure was that her abrupt change of heart had him completely discombobulated.

Fortunately, after a while of fruitlessly juggling his suspicions, he came to the conclusion that there was only one way to find out if she intended on keeping her sacred promise to him. If anything, he could finally know for sure if he had the merit to stop dreaming once and for all and start seeing reality for what it was. Ever the optimist, he opted to brand the situation as a win-win opportunity.

Steeling his spine as he gathered his courage, he puffed out his chest, gave the bottom of his shirt a confident tug, and boldly strolled towards the closed door. Pausing to groom himself, he took a vial of spearmint Binaca out of his pocket to spray a few minty puffs into his mouth. Smacking and licking his lips dramatically, he then straightened his glasses and squared his shoulders ...only to shrink into himself as he balked with uneasiness.

It suddenly occurred to him that despite his persistence, he hadn't _really_ believed she would come around. If he had, he wouldn't be such a nervous wreck right now. But after a gulp and a deep breath, he finally quit stalling long enough to land a few knocks on her door shave-and-a-haircut style. Only to begin fidgeting madly as he waited for paradise to answer his call.

After what felt like an eternity of hoping against hope, the door finally began to open and he quickly poised himself with confidence as he casually leaned against the frame and tried his best to exemplify the relentless tenacity he'd embodied all these years. By the time Laura revealed herself to greet him with a warm smile, she would have never been able to guess that he wanted to throw up.

In fact, she found his playfully devilish smirk and come-hither stare quite alluring. The same google-eyed stare that she once found painfully corny. And yet the irony of craving to be in his Urkel arms right now was so staggering that it was almost scary. But not so scary that it kept her from silently admiring him, wondering when exactly he became so handsome. Or rather, when exactly she began to notice how skin-deep his peculiar charm had always been.

"Hello there, my beloved honey plum," Steve teased with a provocative croon, subliminally handing her to the bone she'd thrown him earlier. "May I... borrow a _blessing_?" he asked pointedly as he flirtatiously wiggled his brows at her, "…I promise to return it."

Was she... _blushing?_ Sheesh, what kind of nerdy black magic did he just put on her? As her eyes bashfully averted to the floor, she was sure to stifle the need to giggle like an infatuated idiot and just breathed deeply through her school-girl jitters with a wry smirk. "That's up to you," she replied coyly as she took a daring step towards him. And when her gaze lifted to meet his, he was astonished to find unmistakable yearning in her eyes clear as day. The sultry cadence of her words only served to seal the deal as she teased him with a soft purr, "Blessings are free all night."

 _Jackpot!_ " _Rawr_ , me-likes the sound of _that_ …" he purred back as a tremor of pure excitement ripped through him. It took every ounce of fortitude not to break into an Irish jig, but he found that her bewitching stare was all he needed to anchor his composure; it was so easy to get lost in those gorgeous brown eyes that bored directly into the depths of his soul.

He realized that he had wasted enough time trying to talk himself out of claiming what had always belonged to him in his heart. Besides, it didn't seem as if a rejection was in the cards for him this time. Abandoning his insecurities, he reached out to grab her hands in his and gently tugged her closer. And he was instantly dizzied by her proximity as she took to him willingly, shamelessly molding herself against him as their fingers entwined.

This was it! _This_ was the kiss that would win her over for good! As he slowly leaned towards her, ready to make sparks to fly, he could already feel the heat between them beginning to kindle hotter and hotter before their lips ever touched…

 _DIIIIING DOOONG!_

…Until the chime of the doorbell did its job to promptly extinguish the flames, that is. Talk about bad timing. They both deflated with a huff of frustration as they were forced to abort their mission to the moon… again.

"Aww, _dagnabit!_ " Steve groused through a grit of his teeth and he flailed in defeat as they reluctantly peeled apart. He prided himself on being a patient guy, but... he wanted his blessing! Sooner rather than later now that he knew that he was in like Flynn. Alas, he should've known paving the road to paradise wouldn't be _that_ easy. All he could do was give his head a rueful shake, grumbling under his breath.

Laura was equally disenchanted. Her parents weren't home yet and Eddie had been dragging his knuckles around because of his report card all day and was probably still sulking in his room. That meant that she was in charge of the house for the time being and ignoring the doorbell was out of the question. With a sedated sigh, she swallowed her disappointment and rubbed his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Steve. I gotta get that."

 _Que sera, sera._ All Steve could do was stomach the delay considering that his life amounted to an endless sequence of setbacks — one more wouldn't hurt him. "No worries, angel lips, I'll go with you," he conceded with dejection as he followed behind her as she brushed past him to make her way towards the stairs. "Just don't forget to redeem my heavenly coupon later," he remarked wryly as they descended the staircase into the living room.

As she cleared the bottom step, she shot an impish smirk at him as he followed close behind her. "Well, it's a limited time offer so we better hurry," she quipped back at him as she approached the front door. Since they weren't expecting visitors, Laura had every intention of making sure that whoever it was stated their business and went on their merry way, quickly grabbing the knob and giving it a twist… but she probably should have taken a peek out of the window first.

Before Steve could even get his flirtatious response out, he was caught completely off guard by Laura's hand as it abruptly smashed against his face to stop him in his tracks as she pulled the door open. To her dismay, it was the Urkel-Monger herself beaming sweetly at her from across the threshold and her first reaction was to make sure Steve wasn't seen since she knew that was the last thing he wanted right now. Hell, it was the last thing _she_ wanted right now.

Even though she appeared cavalier to their visitor as she held the door open, a hidden frenzy had ensued behind the barrier of it as she gave his face an alarmed shove, violently thrusting him out of sight before he could be spotted. His yelp of shock was muffled by her palm as he stumbled off balance with a wild flail, knocking over the trinkets on the fireplace mantel as he flew backward towards the staircase. Thankfully, he managed to catch a grip on the banisters to stop his startled back peddle, barely saving himself from crashing into the stairs. And for a second, all he could do was huff and puff in utter shock.

… _Well, what in Sam Hill was that all about?!_ She'd gone from almost making out with him to almost breaking his neck with no warning whatsoever! He tried his best to recover from the disorientation of being unexpectedly launched across the room, tripping on his own legs he struggled to pull himself upright again. But before he could gripe over his distress, he looked up in time to see Laura frantically waving him away with the arm hidden behind the door. And he paused with a scowl of confusion as he tried to figure out why she was playing charades with him all of a sudden.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Miss Prissy Pants in the flesh," he heard Myra's twittery voice taunt from the other side of the door…and his face blanched in an instant as the reason why Laura's reflexes had gone into overdrive became apparent. Gosh, what a gal — his lady love just saved him from an impending abduction! His eyes widened to saucers as he sucked in a silent, panicked gasp and began to carefully tip-toe away.

 _Siiiigh_ … so much for a 'blessed' evening. But it could've been worse — at least it wasn't Stefan dropping in on them unexpectedly because that was the _last_ thing she needed. "Hi, Myra…" Laura greeted dryly and just chewed her inner cheek to keep her shady insults from under her skin since she had to distract her long enough to give Steve a chance to flee.

"Hello, _peasant_ ," Myra chimed acerbically as she sized up her nemesis with a snooty flick of her hair with one hand, the other clutching a large red woven basket filled with trinkets like sparking cider, candles, and, of course, a huge block of gouda cheese. _How romantic._ Laura was surprised she didn't see furry cuffs and a blindfold in there. "I demand to know where my dashing hubby-aspirant is. I _must_ feast my weary eyes on him at once! _"_ she cried with the drama of a Shakespearean damsel.

 _Oh, Lord._ Laura wanted to roll her eyes but she also wanted to make sure Steve made his escape in time. She paused to take a quick gander over her shoulder and thankfully, he was nowhere to be found. And her brows furrowed since she hadn't seen him leave but she could only hope that he'd interpreted her signal correctly.

Turning back to Myra, she took much pleasure in telling this chick to get lost. "Actually, Steve's not —" ...Or so she thought before Myra cut her off by arrogantly barging through the opened door into the living room without an invitation, briskly slipping right past her as if she were an afterthought.

 _Why, this little…_ Laura's jaw stiffened in irritation as she was left hanging by the door, stifling a sour smirk as she tried her damnedest not to abandon her morals and tackle her into the depths of the underworld. "…Please, _do come in_ ," she sneered after the beat it took to manage her blood pressure, the disingenuous offer dripping with sarcasm.

But she might as well have been an apparition since Myra proceeded to completely ignore her as she reached deep into the basket to grab a handful of rose petals, tossing them in the air with grandeur as she moved towards the couch with a peppy bounce in her step. And all Laura could do was shoot her a disenchanted frown as she watched her living room become littered with flowers.

And the lunacy didn't end there. Once Myra reached the coffee table, she placed the basket on it and took a seat on the couch to begin unloading the items one by one, including a huge framed picture of a grinning Steve. " _Oo-oo-ooo_ , come to mama, baby!" she purred at the picture with a shudder of arousal before leaving huge smooch on the photo, imprinting a red lipstick mark on the glass. To make matters even more maddening, she continued pulling items out of the basket until the entire coffee table was decorated with trinkets... way more than should have been able to fit in that basket.

Laura's scowl deepened as she planted her hands on her hips, wondering if she would ever reach the bottom of it. But it didn't matter since she didn't have any intentions of letting her ride out whatever ridiculous fantasy she was cooking up. In fact, she made it a point to leave the door wide open as she approached her to cross-examine the absurdity. "Myra, what in the world are you doing? I just told you he wasn't here."

"That's the beauty of it, _Lau-ra,_ " Myra retorted curtly as she pulled out a box of matches and began to absently light the row of candle wicks set up on the table... not that she felt that she had to explain anything to the girl who was trying to steal her man. But she did anyway since rubbing her authority as the girlfriend in her face was incredibly satisfying. "However, since that microscopic peanut you call a brain needs a narrative, just know that his betrothed is waiting on her sugar biscuit to return to the manor so that she can properly satisfy her sweet tooth!"

 _Ugh, here comes the crazy train._ As if commandeering the house wasn't enough, she was now referring to herself in the third person. Who did she think she was? Princess Diana? Laura just gave a pitiful shake of her head. It was almost a joke to her to even consider allowing her buried jealousy a chance to surface because this nutcase was beyond help.

"Fair warning: this intervention might weaken the floorboards because she's going to make doubly sure those tectonic heart-plates of his are _sliding smoothly_ tonight," Myra added with a honey-coated drawl of excitement before dismissively turning her attention to the romantic spread in front of her.

"...Girl, huh?!" Laura squawked in confusion with a disenchanted frown since that entire string of sentences sounded like delusional, contrived nonsense. Which wasn't that surprising considering the source. Crossing her arms sternly, she canted her head and shot her a narrow-eyed glare, remarking sarcastically, "Uh, don't you think you should go weaken the floorboards at your own 'manor'?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. Did you just bark about something, Lassie?" Myra chirped in retaliation as she perked brightly, feigning cluelessness as the halo above her head caught fire. Sporting a bitter grin coated with sugar, she plucked a chocolate truffle out of the basket and stood from the couch to dismissively thrust the offering in her direction. "Here you go! Now go nibble on that bone in the back yard somewhere. I don't care what you do, just make yourself unavailable," she suggested candidly, the vitriol of her words completely contradicting her sweet and innocent demeanor. "My gorgeous gumdrop will be here any second and we're going to need some alone time. And, uh... he only likes to look at bugs _after_ dessert. _Chop-chop-chop!_ " she taunted, boastfully waving her away.

 _...Oh, no she didn't._ Laura's face went deadpan with annoyance as her arms crossed a little tighter over her sternum if only to keep herself from grabbing this living cartoon by the hair and launching her out the door like a Hefty bag. Of course she didn't take the truffle — she was halfway tempted to throw it back in her face but her parents raised her better than that. She used her words as a crazy-repellant instead.

"Look, X-Files," she snarled disparagingly with a hostile roll of her neck, "This is _my_ house. _Not_ the Monkhouse Manor. So do yourself a favor." Reaching the end of her patience, she took it upon herself to irritably toss the trinkets back into the basket, dishing out her a firm suggestion of her own as she mirrored Myra's scum-eating grin. "Pack up your sad little chocolates and make tracks before that mop on your head ends up 'unavailable'."

 _Oooh, fighting words!_ And Myra was far from moved by them, becoming smug as she waved an accusing finger at her assailant before warning her scornfully, "Ah-ah-ah _—_ careful, Fido! I have lawyers — you _do not_ want me to call the pound on you."

Okay, it was time to put an end to the foolishness because Laura had enough. That meant not even giving attention to her insulting remarks. Instead, she just picked up the basket and politely grabbed her by the arm to forcibly escort her towards the open door. "... _Goodnight, Myra,"_ she gritted with impudence to keep from screaming, "I'll be sure to tell Steve that you stopped by."

"Hey, hey, get your filthy paws off me this minute!" Myra protested as she was swept out of the door, possessively snatching her basket from her assailant as she struggled against being kicked to the curb. " _Animal Control!_ " she shouted in distress, her voice resounding in the night air in hopes someone would come to her rescue.

And the minute that she stumbled across the threshold, Laura slammed the door nice and hard in her face and the peaceful silence that followed was so satisfying. She almost wanted to collapse in relief, expelling a heavy sigh once the asylum-escapee was finally out of her sight... only to look around her living room and lament at the fact that she had to clean up these rose petals before her parents got home. "I hope that kind of crazy isn't contagious..." she remarked to herself, shuddering with disdain. It was clear that Steve's magic was more persuasive than she could have ever imagined. As far as she was concerned, her crush on him was living proof of that fact.

But before she could speculate whether or not she suffered the same Urkel ailment, she became distracted by the thought that she really didn't know where Steve had disappeared to. Now that his kidnapper had cleared the room, she proactively began to search for him, first calling his name up the staircase, "Steve?" And then proceeding to survey the room for any trace of him. "Where did you go?"

"I'm right here, sweetums. Boy, that was a close shave." His falsetto voice emerged from behind one of the closet doors in the living room, which opened slowly to allow room for his head to peek through. And his eyes cautiously bounced around the frames of his glasses to double check for any trace of his stalker. When there was none, he huffed in relief and fully pulled himself out of the closet wielding a shovel for self-defense purposes. "The coast _is_ clear, right?" he asked warily as he shot skittish glances over his shoulder as if expecting Myra to pop up behind him in a cloud of smoke. One could never be too sure.

... _Ha-ha_. Laura couldn't help but stifle a snicker at the sight of that shovel in Steve's hands since it was pretty amusing to know that he was just as fed up with her insanity as she was... that is, until the nerve-pinching cacophony of accordion music began to unceremoniously float through the house from outside, causing her trip right out of her amusement and into the land of disdain. "Of course not," she replied with a disheartened murmur, cringing as if a thousand nails were being scraped on a chalkboard.

And that must've meant that Myra had set up camp outside of the house to ensure that the entire neighborhood knew that Steve Urkel belonged to her. He was well aware of the signs that led to fruitless persuasion when it came to Myra's unhealthy obsession. And he couldn't be more disenchanted because now he knew his blessing would have to wait. "Ohhhh, this is _just_ great," he griped in irritation as he clutched the shovel like a bat, perching the handle over his shoulder. "She probably brought the tent and everything!"

 _...Wait, what?_ Laura gave a disconcerted knit of her brows as the implication of that statement served to annoy her even further. "The 'tent'? You mean she's gonna be out there all night?" It certainly seemed that way when the music chiming from outside started to get louder and louder.

"Maybe two nights if we're lucky!" Steve chirped without hesitation, aware of the repercussions ignoring her always brought about. He knew it should have served him right since he hadn't made an effort to contact her in almost two weeks — he'd be lying if he said he didn't see this coming.

 _...Aw, hell no!_ That type of foolery was just unacceptable and Laura was not having it. "Steve!" she gritted with an irritated scowl as she planted her hands on her hips in firm opposition. "Could you please just go out there and tell her to take that noise somewhere else before my parents get here?!" God, what was it with these two and polka music?! How could anyone stand the sound of cats chewing piano strings longer than a few minutes?! Her hands flew to cover her ears reflexively as she winced in distaste at the serenade. Apparently, there were still _some_ things about him she didn't think she could ever get used to. "Preferably an alleyway out of the county?!"

But Steve knew peace and quiet was a futile request the moment Myra showed up and while he sympathized with Laura's irritation, fighting against the grain was useless. "No can do, babycakes!" he insisted as he cautiously ducked to prevent being seen through the window.

"Why not? She's _your_ girlfriend..." she replied with an ambivalent squirm as the many obstacles standing between a potential relationship between them drifted into her awareness. She had many of her own fields to clear and yet she felt kind of salty for calling him out on the weeds he hadn't tended. The hypocrite in her was still at large, apparently.

" _Precisely_ ," he asserted, firm on his decision not to thrust himself onto the front lines of peril... and that's when shrieking undulating yodels began to accompany the accordion, causing him to stiffen with anxiety even more. He loved him some polka but those sounds had never sounded so frightening before. "And by the sound of those yodels, she's never gonna let up now! If I go out there, you won't see me again until the next episode of Hard Copy!"

 _...Well, that was just swell._ And there was not much Laura could do but sigh in defeat as her hands lifted to scrub over her face furiously, longing to be put out of her misery as her irritation dialed up a few notches. Her only hope now was that her father felt like charging Myra with trespassing when he got home — she was sure Eddie's report card would be enough to incite the fury he needed to make it happen. She was definitely counting on it.

"Sorry, honey mustard, but I better beat the bricks before she finds me!" Steve insisted in a panic as he began to skedaddle towards the kitchen door with his trusty shovel in tow, hoping to make a clean escape out of the back door. But he felt sorry about leaving his lady love hanging and he couldn't help but pause before he disappeared to offer some cavalier advice for the coming storm. It clearly wasn't his first time at the rodeo considering he was the king of night accordion concerts. "And I suggest ear-plugs for bedtime because it's gonna be a _loooong_ night." With that, he dashed towards the swing door and frantically took flight.

...Maybe there was something in the water that had everyone acting so nutty. Laura had long run out of plausible excuses for the way this parody of a situation was unfolding — she didn't even feel the need to question her own sanity anymore because it was all going to hell in a hand-basket anyway. It hardly mattered because now she had to get the house back in order to prevent being chewed out by her parents. With a rueful shake of her head as the accordion and yodels continued, she dragged herself languidly towards the closet Steve had been hiding in to retrieve a broom.

And that was when his head reappeared through the swing door, suddenly embodying haughty, flirtatious confidence that completely overshadowed his eagerness to get away. "Y'know..." he began with a sultry croon, wiggling brows at her suggestively. He didn't think it would hurt to try and seek a quick smooch for good luck — they did have unfinished business to attend to, after all. "I'm still up for half a blessing. Wanna... _pucker_ -punch? Just one for the road?"

 _Blink_. Laura just gave him a dubious twist of her mouth before stating what should have been obvious to him, especially with the sound of squeezing bellows bouncing against the walls of her house with reckless abandon. "With the Urkel-hunter staking out the house all night? You might wanna save that blessing for later." She was just sayin'.

...And she had a point. Steve's eyes glibly shifted in his eyes as he considered the ramifications of sticking around to see how this disaster ended and he just gave a sage nod of appreciation for her insight. "Ahhhhhh. _Wiiiise_ woman."

"Nah," she replied with an indifferent shrug as she recalled the many nights she had to fend him off in the wake of his own obnoxious serenades. He wasn't the only one who had been to this rodeo. "I just have a lot of pest control experience."

While Steve knew that the true, he highly doubted she'd ever dealt with the pestering Myra could dish — that chick was more resilient than a cockroach. Thus the reason he felt the need to offer a final word of advice. "Okay but don't be afraid to call the Orkin Man if you need back up. Toodles, snickerdoodle!" And with that, he vanished as he quickly scurried to make a hasty exit through the back door.

As for Laura... she needed a fly swatter. Because she'd be damned if she was forced to listen to that accordion any longer. Her fingertips tapped her chin as she pensively considered a plan of attack for exterminating the infestation. "Hmm… I wonder if Dad still keeps his nightstick under the mattress…" she mumbled to herself, quickly abandoning her venture to clean the living room to rush up the stairs to confirm her suspicions. She could only juggle one curse at a time. Hopefully, her blessing would be waiting for her when she finally exorcised the demons puppeteering her unrelenting misfortune.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 28_


	28. The Era of Our Ways

_**Chapter 28: The Era of Our Ways**_

 _Summary: Max inadvertently reminds Laura where her loyalties should lie while Steve aims to free himself of the loyalty he owes to Myra._

* * *

 _ **A FEW DAYS LATER**_

"Girl, you have such cute stuff!" Max chirped, thrilled by the seemingly endless collection of designer dresses at her disposal as she sifted through the hangers of Laura's closet in search of the perfect heartbreaker ensemble. "Who needs a mall when I can just shop in your closet?"

"Don't get used to it or I'll have to put a register in here," Laura quipped listlessly as she supervised Max's raiding from where she was perched crossed-legged on the edge of her bed. She was pretending not to be annoyed by the fact that her friend's grabby hands were leaving wrinkles in her wardrobe.

"Fine with me, as long as the discount is a hundred-percent off," Max replied with candor as she dug a little deeper in the shadows of the closet. She was usually a firm believer in nabbing the latest the fashion phenomenon fresh off the rack but Laura could sympathize with the fact that Max was determined to save herself the hassle of spending money just for a blind date that could easily go sour.

Besides, it's not like she would need her own clothes for a date anytime soon while she was still hopelessly stuck in romantic purgatory. She hadn't gotten a chance to shower Steve with the blessings they both sought after... mainly because Myra was proving to be a complete pain in both their asses.

Despite successfully running Steve's stalker off like a wild raccoon thanks to her dad's nightstick, every time she could find a second alone with Steve, that damn girl would pop up like a canoodling meter maid. It was like she somehow knew her boyfriend was on the brink of escape and she never failed to become randomly 'available' at every turn to rope him back in. The more magnetic Steve became to her, the more restlessly hell-bent Myra was on stealing Cupid's arrow out of the air mid-flight and stabbing herself in the chest with it. The disgruntling part about it was that she knew Myra had every right to intercept.

On top of that layer of frustration were the prickly pulses of guilt that nagged at her the longer her mission to the moon with Steve was delayed. Thoughts of Stefan proved to be just as relentless with throwing her off the tracks until the prospect of kissing Steve again felt like a runaway train. But she tried mightily to keep musings of either of them tucked safely behind the curtains of her conscience for now. Leave it to Max find some way to remind her...

" _Omigod_ , is this Chanel?!" she squealed in excitement, snapping Laura out of her daze and she peered up just in time to see Max yanking out a shimmery, champagne-colored garment from the closet, eagerly twirling it on the hanger to examine its beauty from all angles. "This is absolutely perfect for tonight!"

...Yeah, Laura didn't think so. Immediately ruffled by Max's choice, she darted up from the bed and frantically rushed to intercept her premature claim to triumph. "Ah-ah- _ahh!_ " she cried with a chiding point of her finger, sternly imposing on the celebration. "Back away from the frock!" she warned with a savage growl before possessively snatching the hanger and skittering to a safe distance with her dress.

Max's jaw dropped with a startled gasp, insulted by the sudden ambush as the hanger was abruptly snatched out of her grip. Her excitement spoiled in the middle of her victory shimmy, she deflated with a scoff and firmly addressed the rules. "Hey, you said I can take any dress I wanted!"

"Except _this_ one," Laura insisted firmly, tenderly stroking the sequined fabric like a coveted prize. Slowly but surely, the agitation in her blood thinned so that she could calmly explain, "Stefan gave it for me for Christmas; it's off limits..." So, there. Sentiment was a good enough reason keep the relics of her shaky relationship with her boyfriend pure and untainted — surely Max wouldn't find anything odd about that.

Of course, she was wrong. "But I thought that he went to Italy for the holidays?" Max questioned with a scowl of confusion, quite privy of the rollercoaster ride that the couple had been through recently since Laura always told her everything.

Well, _almost_ everything. As much as the urge to confide in her friend burned in the pit of her stomach, she hadn't spilled the beans at all about her kiss with Steve, among many other startling discoveries she'd stumbled upon when it came to him. Those fleeting moments between them felt far too precious to let stray beyond the sanctuary of their memories and she preferred to keep it that way.

But when it came to Stefan and gossip… their entire relationship was starting to feel like a cover story. "He had it shipped from Rome, so what?" she replied with an apathetic shrug as if getting such a thoughtful present wasn't a big deal. Of course, she didn't dare mention the expensive earrings and roses that came with it. Downplaying her own fairytale was the only tactic she had left when it came to dissuading herself from nipping at that delicious bait, which is why she also never mentioned the possibility of joining him overseas. But her bestie's inquisitive nature certainly wasn't helping to keep her self-deception intact.

"Ohhh, that's _soooo_ _sweeeeeeet!_ " Max squealed with a dramatic sob, lifting a hand to her fan away fake tears. She was honestly more moved by Stefan's glamorized fashion sense than the actual display of affection but as it became clear to her that Laura was a few berries short of a fruitcake, her weeps broke into a snicker-fit of amusement. "You mean to tell me that he got you Chanel from across the Atlantic and you're still thinking about breaking up with him?! I knew you were crazier than a sack of bats," she teased with a snarky grin and a rueful shake of her head ...not that Laura asked for her opinion, but it felt like second nature to let her bestie know when she was teetering on a ledge.

...Laura couldn't necessarily argue with that. Although, she knew of a certain loony tune who was a few rungs higher on the crazy ladder than her. But that was neither here nor there. "It's more to it than that, Max," she insisted timidly, shamefaced as her gaze pensively averted to the dress. Mulling over the reminder of Stefan, she fidgeted with the hanger and stewed in the guilt that she tried to disguise as indifference. "Things aren't the same between us. All we do is argue — he's still mad at me."

"Gee, I wonder why," Max retorted sarcastically, maddened by the fact that Laura had become this dim-witted. She felt compelled to come to Stefan's defense since it was probably her last chance to convince the girl to weigh her options more thoroughly. She had nothing against Steve but in her superficial mind, the scales clearly tipped in Stefan's favor. "You told him that you needed space but he still thought about you from across the globe," she teased with a dubious twist of her mouth before pragmatically handing out more hard-boiled truths for her to chew on. "Refresh my memory but didn't you say that you didn't even get him a gift this year? _And_ you kissed Steve Urkel on top of that; I'd be mad at you, too."

Laura just rolled her eyes with a scoff, disenchanted by the fact that her bestie was always there to psyche her out whether she wanted to hear it or not. Unfortunately, her deflections were becoming more and more lackluster. Still gripping the hanger while firmly planting her fists on her hips, suddenly inattentive to how the 'sentimental' dress was now snagged on it by a thread. "At least he got to see me _wear_ the damn thing, Know-It-All-Nancy," she spat defensively as her blood began to boil with agitation. She did not appreciate this hot spotlight of shame Max was shining on her.

"How thoughtful," Max retorted with a scoff, glowering as she tried to figure out where all of this attitude was coming from. She was just trying to be realistic.

Mirroring Laura's affronted stance, her hands also found her hips as she offered up a snarky warning, "If I were you, I'd be concerned with the fact that all these thirsty vultures are ready to swoop down on your man. If you're not gonna break up with him then you better give him some attention before you have nothing left of him but bones and Armani fabric." With a cavalier shrug, she simply spun back to the closet to resume fishing for her outfit. She already knew Laura wouldn't listen but the whole thing was a no-brainer to her. All she could do was be satisfied with the notion that her duty to impart the ugly truth was fulfilled.

...Very sound advice, actually. And Laura had always admired the fact that her bestie was never afraid to check her. But right now, she was just getting pissed off by this dose of sobering honesty that she didn't ask for — it was very counterproductive to her effort to remain clueless.

"Thank you very much, _once again,_ for being the world's most redundant broken record," she remarked with a bitter grin, impatiently tonguing her cheek as her irritation swelled. She didn't want to hear sound advice right now; she would have preferred a nice coddling. But whatever. Let thine chains be rattled. "You don't even have a boyfriend, Max. Who asked you anyway?"

… _Somebody_ was salty. Max just shot an insulted scowl over her shoulder since that question was a parody in itself and she couldn't even help her embittered reaction to it. "… _You_ did, Your Highness! I'm not the one who's a broken record, Laura. Day and night, all I hear is whining! ' _Waaah, waaah, waaaaah!_ Two guys are in love with me, my golden cape is too long, and my diamond crown is too tight! My perfect life is _suuuch_ a tragedy!'" she scoffed indignantly, mimicking Laura's bratty tone while she continued to fish for a dress. "Girl, bye. You'll be trading in that crown for a straight jacket sooner than I thought." In her mind, the building tension between them was still no reason to abort her raiding mission, carefully extracting a couple of hangers so that she could examine the outfits on them side-by-side. Fight or no fight, she had every intention of walking out of there with a dress.

…All the while completely insensitive to Laura's burgeoning annoyance as her jaw stiffened, her feathers ruffled by Max's mockery. Jeez, she made it sound like she was shackled to a throne made of men. And of course she took it the wrong way, especially since it was clear that nobody could even begin to comprehend what she was going through.

Her frustration was practically oozing out of her pores and her insecurities were as raw as her guilt — her bestie's petulance was only fanning the flames. "Y'know what, you're _this_ close to taking this little raiding party of yours to a dumpster," she threatened tightly, pinching the air with her forefinger and thumb to demonstrate the thin line she spoke of, "Watch it or you'll be showing up on that date sporting a garbage bag."

And now Max was officially offended. She didn't come over here to battle Laura's delusions. But she was always ready to volley cheap shots of her own, especially when her best friend started to act like a jerk. Provoked by her snarky insult, she turned from the closet to face her, crossing her arms with a narrowed-eyed glare to snidely counter the threat, "I'm just trying to help _you_ out, Laura! _You're_ the cheater but _I'm_ the one who needs a garbage bag? I'm surprised Stefan hasn't cleaned out _his_ closet yet!"

 _..._ At least they could both agree that she was a cheater… And the realization of this fact loomed over her like a dark cloud of disgust. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that Max was on the money with that assessment and she suddenly felt like she was sucking down a goblet of scalding guilt. With no decent comebacks at her disposal, she deflated in surrender and un-balled her tightening fists after the beat it took for her to choke down the bitter pill of her questionable character.

"… _Ugh, you're right_ ," she bellyached with a defeated sigh, raking her hand through her hair as she finally succumbed to her glaring faults. She was already on the brink of the losing the men she cared about; she certainly didn't want to risk throwing her bestie's respect down the drain too. But how could she expect anybody else to sympathize what was going on with her when she wasn't even sure what was driving her anymore?

Taking a sullen look down at the dress in her hand, she dismissively tossed it onto the bed along with her expended anger, another tremor of regret humbling her defensive stance and taking a sheepish step towards her bestie, sulking remorsefully. "Max. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so..."

"Bitchy?" Max suggested with a dubious quirk of her brow. This certainly wasn't the first time they'd fallen out over seemingly nothing and she guarded herself with the expectation that her self-righteous friend would wear her unwarranted grudge like a badge of honor as she had in the past.

But to her surprise, Laura slid off of her high horse gracefully. It's not like she could find a better adjective to describe her state of mind. "...We can go with that," she conceded tentatively, "But it's not fair to take it out on you. It's just that there's a lot going on that you don't even know about. I wouldn't wish this kind of confusion on my worst enemy," she said morosely… only to poise herself with indifference once again as she shook off her dejection. Because she'd hate to come off as ' _whining'_ again. Instantly annoyed with herself, she decided to squash the topic altogether. "Anyway… I-I don't wanna talk about it right now, okay?"

Becoming receptive to her apology, Max unraveled her own annoyance and softened as she spotted the despondency in her eyes, concern and sympathy snuffing her irritation. And it was the first time since this whole scandal started that she was convinced that Laura was far more conflicted with her feelings than she assumed... she honestly thought she would have made a choice by now.

Try as she might to put herself in her friend's shoes, it occurred to her that all of the perspective in the world wouldn't be enough to make up Laura's mind for her. And she swelled with her own guilt for being so insensitive to the agony she hoped she never had to go through herself. It suddenly made her grateful to be single.

"Here..." Laura said warmly after a beat of awkward silence, waving away the tension that lingered between them to point out one of the dresses Max held in her hands. "Try the orange one," she suggested, forcing herself to hide her regrets beneath a wry smirk in an attempt to redirect the spotlight, quipping dolefully, "With a neckline like that, you can't miss."

Peering down to the hanger with the dress, she noted that it was also a little bit on the short side and gave a nod of approval. "...Then we have a winner! Thanks, girl," she said with a gracious smile, the tension rolling off of her shoulders as if their fall-out never happened, hanging the other dress back on the rack of the closet.

When she looked over at Laura again, she tell could by her friend's pensiveness that she was only trying to keep her dejection buried... and she suddenly felt responsible for her distress. Swelling with regret for coming off so brashly, she offered up a sincere apology of her own as she gently reached out to compassionately rub her arm. "Hey. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have pushed it; it's none of my business. And I didn't mean to say that you _whine_..."

"No, it's okay," Laura replied with a dispirited sigh, her shoulders slumping pitifully against the weight of self-loathing. While it had really bothered her that Max thought she was a whiner, what was even more disheartening was the fact that she agreed with her. She just shrugged in surrender as it occurred to her that the hardest part about this whole thing was the fact that love had the nerve to show her who she really was. "It's true. I'm an ungrateful little brat."

"Hey, don't say that. Nobody with a fabulous wardrobe like this can be all bad. Especially when you're royalty," Max bantered as she gave her bestie a hip-bump, hoping to lift her spirits. Even if she couldn't help her make a decision, she would always give an effort to be supportive. And knowing that Laura can use some fun, she perked as an idea came to mind. "Say, why don't you come out with us? It'll get your mind off of it. Maybe I can see if he has a friend or something. We could even use fake names, like back in the day." She wiggled her brows mischievously, becoming excited by the idea that Laura could be the loser barometer and tell her whether or not this guy was worth a second date.

… _Yeah, right._ And Laura had to wonder just how Stefan _or_ Steve would react if they found out that she had gone on a blind date with some random guy. It just didn't seem conducive to the sticky situation she was already in. She just pursed her lips at Max dubiously. "And tie another knot into this nonsense?" She shook her head to decline the offer. "Sounds fun, but... I'd rather just stay here and... untangle." Fun distractions was what got her into this mess in the first place; she probably would never be so conflicted had she not carelessly thrown caution to the wind at the Delta party.

Max just shrugged, sympathetic to the fact that her bestie was in the business of self-control these days. And once again, she couldn't help but be satisfied that she had no such ties of her own. "Gotcha. Well, I gotta start getting ready. I'll call you later with all the juice," she said as she pulled the door to Laura's bedroom open to make her exit.

"Okay. Have fun," Laura said with a sincere smile, becoming envious that 'fun' was so easy for Max to pull — she seemed to never get as caught up with her reckless decisions. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do…" she teased… only to balk with a cringe when it occurred to her that she was dishing pretty bad advice. "Nevermind. Do _everything_ I wouldn't do. It seems to work for you."

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT NIGHT**_

Love is a many-splendored thing. But when it came to Myra, it was becoming a many-splintered headache and Steve was starting to feel more displaced by her maddening antics than Laura's perpetual confusion. He never did get a chance to cash in on his blessings with his lady love… mainly because every time an opportunity presented itself to lay one on Laura, his possessive girlfriend would tighten her leash around his neck. When he discovered that his anxiety over her relentless stalking had him grinding his teeth in his sleep, he found himself plotting the best way to fly the coop. Being the object of her obsession was starting to feel hazardous to his health.

Surprisingly, the decision to do so was harder to swallow than he thought it would be. He knew what it felt like to be brushed aside like yesterday's trash and the last thing he wanted to do was come off an ungrateful. She was the only one in his life who proudly uplifted his every nuance. And he couldn't say he was proud that he was chasing after the kiss of another woman when she had always been unapologetically loyal to him. So he felt a little guilty for feeding off of her unconditional love when he knew all along that he could never give her the key to his heart.

But just a _little_ guilty. He was more concerned that she would ignite like gunpowder when he broke the bad news to her. She was an unpredictable little minx and he never could tell from one second to the next whether or not he should keep a tranquilizer closeby. Despite his reservations, he remained steadfast with his decision to sweep away remnants of the past in order to let flourish the possibility of having the true love of his life once and for all.

He tried his best to mask his ambivalence as he sat across from Myra at their table for two at Amoré's, a fancy-pants restaurant she'd practically dragged him to for an impromptu date. He'd been trying to dodge her for weeks but his efforts to remain in the shadows had been fruitless so far; he might as well use his time with her wisely while he had a chance to make a clean break from bondage. If nothing else, he could appreciate the opportunity to the give his spiffy new suit a try.

"Creme brulé," the waiter said as he pompously placed Myra's portion of dessert in front of her. "And a hot... cheese sundae," he droned as leered down his nose at Steve and reluctantly settled the bizarre dairy mash-up before him.

"Yummers!" Steve exclaimed as he eyed the unusual dessert like a delectable treasure. Buzzing with anticipation, he eagerly spooned it into his mouth, unaware of the driblets of ice cream streaming down his chin. "Mmmm... mmm, _sweet_ nectar!" he declared brightly as he plucked out one of the cheese slices to use as a scooper. "French vanilla ice cream and melted Kraft singles! Don't tell _me_ there's no God!"

Myra looked on pensively as he began to scarf down the dessert without a care in the world while the waiter just silently excused himself, stone-faced with disgust as he left the odd couple to their devices. "Stevie, there's some schmutz on your chinny-chin-chin," she informed him sweetly and held her poker-face steady even though she'd felt defeated all night.

She desperately wished she was the one being sopped up on that cheese slice right now and she tried not to sulk as she immediately took notice that he didn't even bother offering to feed her a scoop! Their Lady and the Tramp antics were usually in overdrive by the time dessert came to the table and yet he had barely looked her way while he nursed the dairy confection.

"Oh, I'll get it!" In the interest of keeping his suit clean, Steve resisted the impulse to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and became determined to use his tongue instead. Straining for dear life, he craned his head as he made a futile attempt to flex his tongue to his chin, vigilantly gripping the chair to leverage himself against it.

Myra cringed with concern as she watched him nearly sprain his own neck trying to lap up the dribble. Compelled to come to his rescue, she briefly got up from the table and approached him, dabbing his chin with her napkin until the ice cream goatee was gone... all the while tempering the overwhelming urge she had to deposit herself in his lap and lick it off herself… "There!" she chirped before returning to her seat like a good girl.

"Ahh, thank you. You headed off a tongue cramp," he said graciously, relieved that he didn't injure himself this time. As much as he wanted to continue digging into his dessert, it occurred to him that she'd been unusually distant the entire date — she would usually be all over him like a fly on honey by now. Considering that she'd nearly tackled him through the kitchen table trying to ravish him earlier that day, he had to wonder why she wasn't more excited that she'd succeeded in baiting his company right now.

Although he felt hesitant to proceed in fear of her hurting her feelings, he knew that he couldn't let the truth slip by unspoken any longer. Becoming solemn, he gathered his courage and took it upon himself to carefully open a dialogue. "Myra, there's... something _tres importanté_ we need to discuss."

… _Yeah, no kidding._ "Oh, really?" she asked, feigning cluelessness in order to save face but she already knew what he was going to say. He'd been slipping through her fingers like dust for a while now and so far, her mission to recapture his drifting attention had failed miserably. After exhausting every sinister ploy she could think of to rope him back into her good graces, there seemed to be only one thing left to do. "Well, there's something on my mind, too, Stevie. That's why I wanted us to have dinner here tonight," she told him evenly, her intrinsic enthusiasm on a downbeat for once.

Steve found her sedated demeanor as odd as sunshine in a monsoon and he was quite eager to get some insight into what she might've been thinking. After all, he still cared about her and he was concerned that he was about to pour salt into raw wounds. "Oh, well, ladies first!" he offered chivalrously, if only for the sake of stalling himself.

And his heart swelled with compassion the moment she looked at him with those entrancing puppy-dog eyes. "Steven, there's no easy way to say this, but... I'm afraid the time has come to take a long and hard look at our relationship."

...Well, he hadn't necessarily expected her to pull the exact words he was going to say right out of his mouth. But he was relieved that she said it first because now he didn't have to rip the band-aid. Easing into his demise felt safer. "I could not agree you with _more_ ," he replied emphatically.

"We've drifted apart these past few months," she continued sullenly, playing on her disappointment with the way he seemed to be morphing into a different person.

" _Exactly_ ," he agreed firmly, solaced by the fact that she was _finally_ catching the hint.

Oh, she got the hint, alright. And the hint's name was Laura Winslow. Hit list target number one. The evidence was crystal clear — her sweetie was becoming a carbon copy of Stefan before her very eyes! ...As if that wasn't already the case. But nobody compared to her sexy snugglebuns, not even his yuppie clone. She just didn't want him to change. And she knew it was all because of that _tramp_ he was so obsessed with. It always was.

With a disenchanted sink of her shoulders, she scrutinized him with a look of disapproval and laid her gripes on the table. Well, not her _real_ gripes… because that wasn't quite her style. "I mean, you've changed. Take tonight, for example. I _ask you_ to wear something sexy. Yet I see no tight bun-hugging pants, waistline neatly snugged juuuust below the nipples," she said with a wistful cant of her head, squinting as she redressed him with her imagination before complaining as if he'd become the biggest turn-off, turning her nose up at the suit he wore. She considered it a flavorless contradiction of the brilliant, creatively expressive man she envisioned him to be. "No sexy suspenders, there's no dashing bow tie. Just that long... _icky_ thing danglin' from your neck."

 _Icky?_ …Steve was almost positive that the fashion police would disagree. He'd picked out his suit all by himself and he was proud that he had made a well thought-out decision for once. He figured he might as well try the opposite of purple tuxes and polka-dotted ties and so far, the response had been positive. People had been staring in awe in lieu of disgust all night and he saw that as a major improvement!

"You don't like my tie?" Maybe she just needed a closer look at all the cool patterns embroidered on it and so he impulsively to pulled the clip-on tie from his collar to hold it out to her.

But his improved fashion sense didn't mean his attentiveness was winning any awards. He was completely unaware of the candle on the table and ended up accidentally dangling the tie over the open flame. It immediately caught fire, causing him to jerk in his chair with panicky yelps as his hands started to burn, nearly singeing his fingers as the hot flames ate away at the fabric.

It was a good thing their server had been watching them like a hawk… or maybe he was just a fireman in disguise because before the tie could become engulfed in flames, the waiter quickly rushed over to snatch it from his hand and snuff the flames by stuffing the tie in a goblet of water on the table.

… _Oops._ Steve just shrunk into himself bashfully as the waiter came to the rescue. And he was clearly agitated with the shenanigans at this table by the way he glared down at Steve and irritably tossed the check down in front of him. As much as he wanted to scream at them to get out, he just stiffened his jaw and walked away, feeling entitled to a pretty big tip. Here's to hoping that they would be gone by the time he returned to the table.

Myra was unfazed by the chaos that had almost erupted. As far as she was concerned, that whole suit needed a good burning and she just watched as the tie met its rightful demise. When she got his attention again, the despondent plea in her eyes had become even more pronounced. "What I'm trying to say is that I desperately miss the old Steve Urkel."

That much was obvious to him. The funny thing was, even though he'd never felt this confident in his own skin before, he still felt like the same ol' Steve in a lot of ways. That didn't mean he wasn't turning over a new leaf and he felt the difference with every breath he took these days. Many factors contributed to his shifting self-image, including the fact that all of them were growing up and he just happened to be more accepting of the fact that change wasn't necessarily a bad thing. At the end of the day, all the determination in the world would never stop the inevitable effects of time. "But Myra, I'm not the man I used to be."

Myra begged to differ. If his genius mind could figure out a way change the very structure of his DNA, then he could figure out a way to stay locked in a box of her expectations. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that forcing him to be the man she wanted him to be would never be enough to restore their relationship to the carefree puppy-love story that it once was. "Steven." She leaned in to gently grab his hands in hers as her expression became crestfallen with regret. "I'm breaking up with you."

…He could only find two words for _that_ unexpected curveball. _"Excu'e me...?"_ he chirped with wide-eyed bewilderment, leaning towards her as his brows shot up in surprise. _She_... was breaking up... with _him?!_ He hadn't bought for one second that she was even in a headspace to consider the possibility of letting him go… not while their imaginary children were running amuck; she had just described the nursery for the 'triplets' to him a couple days ago! Needless to say... he was flabbergasted.

And as he gaped at her in shock, he wasn't even sure if he could take her seriously. Any moment now, she would break into a fit of giggles and reassure him that she was just kidding. But it became clear to him just how determined she was as she took that beat of stunned silence to stand from the table, triggering him to stand as well. "Bye, dear Steven," she said as she whimsically floated through many precious memories. "I'll always treasure our times together. The midnight polkas, the all-night cheese binges. The First Annual Caterpillar Rodeo."

 _Good times, indeed..._ "Ohhhh... we lived fast and played hard, baby..." he crooned wistfully as he was reminded of the many care-free moments that had made their lopsided relationship worth the ride. As jarred as he was by the effortless way this breakup was unfolding, he suddenly found himself doleful that the creation of those memories was no more…

But before he get too lost in the sobering realization that he was officially free as a bird, he was brought back to reality as she transferred a kiss from her fingertips to his lips. And all he could do was watch on pensively as his ex-snugglebuns slinked away towards the exit of the restaurant. " _Au revoir, mon cher_ ," she crooned to him melodramatically with the carol of plucking harps before blowing him a final farewell kiss. " _Au revoir_." And with that, she peered out of the exit door in search of transportation as if she were in a rush to skedaddle. "Yoooo, TAXI!" she hollered brashly before blowing a loud whistle with her fingers and briskly skittering out of the door.

… _Uhhh, okaaaay? …_ That was way easier than Steve thought it would be! ...A little _too_ easy. And pleasant. And abrupt. But he was surprised to find out that he wasn't as thrilled to finally be free as he thought he would be. It's not like he didn't see the value of what he was cutting loose… or rather, what had just cut _him_ loose.

Myra may have been a bundle of crazy but she was also adventurously fun, incredibly sexy, passionately quirky, and one of the sweetest little flowers he'd ever had the honor of bestowing… when she wasn't plotting world domination, that is. He was well aware that they shared a unique, kindred connection that he'd probably never find again in another person and she had always been his only supporter when society turned its back on him. But no matter how much he revered the fact that there was certainly no other woman like her… she would never be Laura Winslow, the woman he'd been hopelessly in love with his entire life and probably always would be.

…The same woman who wouldn't even spit in his direction for just as long. And now, all of a sudden, she wanted to swap spit _with_ him. Out of nowhere. He found the irony of that cold truth agonizing, especially in light of his uncertainty about her intentions. The most maddening part of all was the fact that there was still no way to tell whether the grass was truly greener while still so far away from the hill.

 _Oh, well._ When in doubt, dairy always came to the rescue. Sighing as he stewed in a confusing mixture of regret and relief, he plucked one of the cheese slices out of the ice cream and chewed on it pensively as he contemplated over what this meant for his future with his lady love… or rather, if they even had a future to look forward to at all. Luckily, there was an easy way to find out.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 29_


	29. Out On A Limb

_**Chapter 29: Out On A Limb**_

 _Summary: Steve finds himself at a loss when his flight to freedom doesn't quite pan out the way he expects._

* * *

 _Siiiiigh_. Steve sauntered through the front door of the house with his blazer slung over his shoulder by the hook on his fingers, feeling as light as a feather and yet unable to shake the feeling of unsettling suspicion that followed him the entire way home from Amoré's. Even though he was free to spread his wings, he was still disoriented by the effortless way he managed to wiggle out of the old ball and chain. For some reason, he didn't feel like kicking his heels in the air in triumph.

Maybe the routine of being stalked and loved so deeply had become comfortable. Even so, he didn't have plans on revisiting the past. Reclaiming his freedom was just another step towards being the man he always wanted to be, whether his lady love was brave enough to get to know him or not. That had always been out of his control.

Not that Laura felt secure behind the wheel of that control. In fact, she made it a point to keep her eyes off of the road if it meant keeping herself from choosing which way to turn. While everyone was out having the time of their lives on a Saturday night, she diligently tried to distract herself from the guilt her conversation with Max stirred up in isolation.

Seated on the couch in front of a spread of nail polish on the coffee table, she was busy 'untangling' herself with a manicure, pinching on her fingertips to make sure her false press-on nails were secure. "Hey, Steve," she greeted as he entered, secretly suppressing her curiosity over how his date went. Since Myra didn't come skipping in after him, she was dying to ask if he'd managed to ditch her… but it wasn't any of her business… unfortunately.

Ahhh, there was his beautiful tulip. A sense of relief washed over him the moment he spotted her, satisfied to know that it was officially their first moment alone that wouldn't involve a stir-crazy intervention from his ex. Or so he would think. "Hello, Laura Lee," he said as he shuffled towards the armchair. Draping his blazer over the back of it, he sank into the cushions as if he just ran a marathon. "Well, sir-ma'am. An era has finally come to an end."

"And I suppose you're gonna tell me what era that might be," Laura quipped dryly, hoping that he somehow was referring to this unfortunate lack of progress they spiraled into.

"Myra broke up with me." How's _that_ for progress?

 _..._ After all of that To Catch an Urkel nonsense she pulled?! _Nobody_ could've seen that coming. "You're kidding! She's crazy about you," she mused with a puzzled frown, only for her baffled expression to flatten when she realized who they were talking about here. "And I do mean _crazy_."

"She thinks I've changed!" Steve explained, still steeped in his confusion over the way in which their diving four-year relationship made a smooth emergency landing. "The way I dress, the way I act. She says she doesn't even recognize me anymore!"

Hm. There was hope for Laura yet. Maybe that meant she _wasn't_ crazy for thinking the same thing. Because unlike Myra, she was really starting to like what she saw. Her eyes briefly scanned him, taking notice of how he managed to embody a confidence with his new style she never saw before. It was a far cry from the suspenders-sporting anomaly he used to be. He cleaned up real nice. And if Myra didn't think so, then... her loss. "Well, Steve, it's true — you _are_ changing. But if you ask me, I think it's for the better."

 _That_ was awe-inspiring. Coming from Laura, it was like hearing that he morphed from a worm to a pharaoh and his eyes sparked with inspiration. Quirking his brows, he perked with pride and sprung up from the chair to gracefully migrate next to her on the couch. _"Oh, really?"_ he purred teasingly, his voice dipping from his nasal soprano to a smooth baritone. On purpose this time.

Laura couldn't help but grin sheepishly as he playfully invaded her space, regarding her with a mischievous smirk. She was really trying to keep her dormant desires at bay, and he wasn't making it easy for her. But she gracefully tempered herself with a coy smile in return and continued distracting herself with her manicure. "Yes, really."

Looks like he was doing something right for a change because he couldn't remember if he'd ever seen her beautiful smile so much before. Not only that, she didn't go running for the hills the moment he got closer to her and that was a miracle in itself.

As much as he wanted to test the waters, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around this unusual night. It may have been for the best, but it certainly didn't go down the way he anticipated. "Laura, the irony is: I was gonna break up with Myra tonight."

More unlikely news. He wasn't the type to pull a rug out from under someone he cared about, and it was starting to feel like he was never going to make that chick dial down the insanity. "You were? Why?" she asked, peering at him with a curious knit in her brows.

He thought she'd never ask! A wry smirk sprung to his lips as he shot her a look of fearless resolve. Enraptured by his determination, he rose to his feet regally. "Because I wanted to hack a clear path!" he exclaimed with a dramatic arm-chop, whimsically peering down at her with a twinkle of adoration in his eyes. "...Through the jungle of love. From your heart...to my hut." Forming a roof shape with his fingers, he dreamily gestured the hut over his heart.

"Steve, did you have wine with dinner?" Laura asked as she peered up at him incredulously, knowing all too well the side effects of inebriation.

Steve just shot her an impish smirk and took his rightful place on the mountaintop. "If you're asking whether or not I'm intoxicated, the answer is yes - yes-yes- _yeeees_. A THOOOUSAND times _yes…!"_ he declared passionately, shooting her a beguiling stare through the shimmering panes of his glasses. "I'm drunk on _you_ , baby…" he crooned at her with a haughty sway of confidence. "And I _alllllways_ have been."

What a goofball. Laura couldn't subdue the grin of amusement that sprung to her lips, remembering a time when his corniness would've had her gagging. And yet, here she was, blushing under the heat of his eccentric charm yet again.

His kooky sense of humor had become so adorable to her that she didn't know whether to break into a fit of giggles or melt into the carpet. She just had to accept the fact that he was too cute for his own good… and steadily becoming cuter the longer she looked at him. Tickled by his antics, all she could do was shake her head ruefully and peer up at him with tender fondness and a defeated sigh. "What am I gonna do with you, Steve Urkel?"

Did she even have to ask? Steve could think of million things he'd want her to 'do' with him, but there was only one thing he ever really wanted from her his entire life. Sitting down next to her again, he regarded her amorously and threw out a simple, heart-warming suggestion that he hoped she would one day consider. "Just love me, Laura. Love me like I love you."

 _Awww.._. There he went again, being his unbearably sweet self. And for once, his request wasn't too much to ask. Laura softened as he effortlessly chiseled away the layers of her resistance with the alluring reverence in his eyes. As she lost herself in his gentle gaze, it occurred to her that he was the reason that she was finally smiling again. It amazed her how quickly he shifted from being a repulsion to the source of her peace of mind... and an unlikely target for her soaring desires.

Her hand gently landed on his shoulder, her fingertips caressing the flesh of his neck, the graze of her false nails sending chills of delight up his spine. She couldn't find any words that could accurately express what she was feeling in that moment. But words were irrelevant since she owed him a blessing anyway. Actually, she felt like she owed him so much more than that, but it was a start.

"C'mere..." she whispered softly as she surrendered to the magnetism that sparked between them, tugging on her heart strings. Leaning towards him, she gently molded her lips against his, lulling him into a feathery-soft, affectionate kiss.

 _Ahhh_ , what a blessing. The one that he had been craving for days now. He may not be the most balanced human being in the world but he'd always known what he wanted. Now that he was free to reach out and grab it, he saw no point in second-guessing himself this time, and so he gently kissed her in return like her lips had always belonged to him.

There wasn't another place on earth he would rather be than right here, a prisoner to the enchantment of his lady love's addictive lips. But they must've been pretty naive to assume that it would be _that_ easy to finally capture that sweet stillness they both had been aching for…

 _"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"_

No sooner than they were on their way down paradise's alley, their mutual euphoria was shattered like glass by a shrill scream that ripped apart the silence of their moment. And when their eardrums popped, they flinched with a start and Steve peeled himself from Laura's lips to look over in alarm… only to recoil with wide-eyed dread as he spotted his worst nightmare gaping at them in slack-jawed horror by the front door…

Just his luck. Frightened by the piercing lasers in Myra's astonished glare, Steve frantically rubbed Laura's gloss from his lips with the backs of his hands before wiping them on the cushions of the couch as if that would somehow make her un-see what she just saw.

"Myra!" he chirped nervously, stiffening with fear as he clutched the couch, afraid that she was about to smash him like a bug. It's not like he had to answer to her anymore but snuffing her overbearing jealousy was an automatic reflex at this point. Besides, he was so frazzled by her sudden intrusion that it didn't even occur to him to question why she was there at all.

He was lucky that she wanted to bear his children. Because if she happened to have a monster truck on hand, she probably would have run them both over with it by now. But all she could do instead was fume as she stalked towards them with the blazes of wounded outrage in her eyes.

"Don't you 'Myra' me!" she scolded, her twittery voice barely an indicator of the torture she was enduring by the sight of her snuggle buns with his lips all over her nemesis. "How could you betray me like this?!" He meant to tell her that she just cut him loose and he was already moving on to sluttier pastures?! …She made a mental note to herself to invest in an electric shock collar with a padlock when she got a chance.

"'Betray _you?!_ '" Steve retorted defensively as he pushed himself up from the couch to confront the delirium of her words, stepping in her direction to challenge that dirty fallacy. "Two hours ago, you broke up with _me!_ Why, you tossed me aside like a smelly gym sock!" he spat, disillusioned by her irrational accusation.

She just didn't quit, did she? The way she barged into this house like she was paying the mortgage said it all. And Laura just calmly bit down her building irritation and quietly spectated from her spot on the couch, her confused gaze shifting between the two ex-lovers. Or… _still_ -lovers? Their relationship had always been so bizarre to her, so there was no telling what this girl had up her sleeve. But as far as she was concerned, karma was a bitch and revenge was her sister — she definitely wasn't sorry that she caught them just now. Sucks for her.

"Oh, _fish sticks!_ I wasn't _dumping_ you! That was a carefully orchestrated charade _designed_ to drive you back into my arms!" Myra disclosed matter-of-factly, earnestly illustrating her grand scheme as if setting him up was an obvious display of affection. Duh! How dare he question her devotion?!

 _...Was this girl for real?_ While Steve mulled over that deceitful maneuver with a disillusioned scowl, Laura just shook her head as it occurred to her that Myra was really starting to give the mentally disturbed a bad name. Casting her a blank stare, she quipped dryly, "Girl, you really scare me..."

Myra had no time for man-thieving snakes and their slithering insults — she had one focus only, and her gaze zeroed in on him with narrowed eyes. Planting her hands on her hips, she regarded him with the sweetest look of admonishment as she stalked in his direction, "Steven. If you think I let you go just so that you can get on with your life, you're one bearded lady short of a freak show!"

 _Uh-oh._ Stiffening with uneasiness, Steve found himself awkwardly back-peddling as she closed in on him with all of her petite, honey-coated outrage. Nearly tripping over the coffee table, he recoiled as she shook an accusing finger in his face, causing him to stumble backward onto the couch. He eyed her cautiously as she cast her looming shadow of jealousy over him, resisting the urge to hide behind Laura as he cowered against her. "…Now you're scarin' me too!" he chirped timidly. _He_ was the freak show when she was the one who had lied through her teeth just to keep him bagged? Somehow, he didn't think that claim would hold up in a court of law.

But of course, it was never about the truth when it came to Myra. Why be honest when lies were so much more effective in carrying out her plans? Unfortunately, it became very clear at that moment that she had run out of deceit as ammunition. All she had left was the ultimate demand that all of her schemings had amounted to in the first place. With no choice but to take a last stand, she stomped away defiantly, imparting her terms with authority, "I want you to stop being this silly 'new' Steve and come crawling back to me and beg for my forgiveness." _That's right, Myra. Be firm! Be demanding!_

… _Cry your eyes out?_ When he didn't move a muscle to fulfill her request, it hit her that her influence over him had completely fizzled out and she could only hope that unraveling into a heap of whines would be enough to convince him. "… _Pleeeeaase?!_ " she begged, pouting desperately.

 _Oh, boy._ Steve knew that she was trying to play his compassion like a fiddle and he almost took the bait. His soft spot for his ex was still tender, and no matter how much she tried to delude him, the last thing he wanted to do was break her heart. After all, he knew what it felt like to plead until he was blue in the face. He also knew what it felt like to stoop to new lows of desperation when pleading just wasn't enough.

But no matter how much she poked her lip out at him, he knew that they had crossed a point of no return. As much as it stung him to say it, he made his stance on the issue clear with three simple words coated in sympathy, "I'm sorry, Myra…"

…Oh, he was gonna be sorry, alright! Just as quickly as Myra fell into a pout, she brightened and shot him a bedazzling smile with an impish twinkle in her eye. She knew what would do the trick. "Maaaama likes to oom-pah-pah, oom-pah-pah, _oom-paaah!_ " she serenaded as she attempted to entice him a seductive shimmy of her shoulders. "Allllll niiiight loooong..."

 _Twitch._ Steve clutched the couch cushions when he felt a shudder of excitement stiffen his entire body, the melodious lilt of her voice threatening to unravel his composed defiance. It took all of his will-power not to rocket to his feet and shuffle his heart out.

… _The hell?_ Watching them was more entertaining than a Spanish soap opera. Laura just looked on in confusion as she watched Myra's absurdity intensify, only to frown with concern as Steve started to squirm uncontrollably in the spot next to her as if he were under the grip of mind control. Suspicious that he needed a little help with restraining himself, she briefly shielded him with an arm to keep him from bursting through the roof.

 _Grrr_ , it was moments like this that Steve wished she wasn't so shrewd when it came to pushing his buttons. But doggone it, polka or no polka, _enough was enough!_ "…Stop! _Stop!_ " he belted in protest as he was struck with conviction, becoming fed up with her bewitching sorcery. And he sprung to his feet to fearlessly confront her diabolic provocation head-on. "Enough of the Devil's Polka!" he cried in frustration, deflecting her black magic with crucifix fingers and she gave a silent gasp, offended that he dared to defy her spell. When she finally submitted to his resistance, he regarded her with a calm petition, "Now, Myra… this breakup was for the best. Laura, and I —"

"Oh, I SEE!" Myra erupted as she flared into a fit of envy and resentment, completely catching Steve off guard as her frustrated flail stiff-armed his chest, propelling him backwards into the chair with a yelp of surprise. "It's _Laura_ again! It's _always_ 'Laura, Laura, Laura'!" she complained vehemently before shooting her nemesis a snooty look of disgust, "For the life of me, I can't see what you see in this... _strumpet!"_

...Laura was getting _reeeeally_ tired of all of the condescending remarks. She just snickered to herself with a rueful shake of her head, slowly reaching the outer limits of her patience with this nutcase. "…'Strumpet'?" she parroted politely with a bitter grin, calmly sweeping her tongue over the top row of her teeth. Uncrossing her ankles with the grace of a duchess, she pushed herself to stand from the couch and stalk towards her with her fangs bared. "I got your 'strumpet'!" she seethed as she defiantly waved a false nail at her, just dying to scratch up that pretty face of hers.

 _Pffft!_ Was Myra supposed to be scared of those stripper-claws of hers or something? She was itching just as much to yank that weave of hers right out of her head and smack her in the face with it. Rolling up the sleeves of her fur coat, she curled her lip and barked back at her, their voices instantly erupting into a clamor of incoherent insults thrown back and forth through mocking sneers and stiff neck rolls.

Alarmed as he spectated a cat fight waiting to happen, Steve frantically hopped up from the armchair and rushed over to wedge himself between the sass war. "Girls, girls, girls, girls, GIRLS! Don't fight over me!" he interjected earnestly as he nudged them apart, his protest silencing them... only to succumb to the odd sensation of arousal that struck him the moment he realized two gorgeous women were bickering over _him_. Lady Luck was very generous with the crumbs today, that's for sure. He couldn't help but wiggle his brows mischievously. "…Even though...it's my dream come truuue..." he purred with an impish grin of satisfaction.

 _Hmph._ Later for this non-factor ninny. As much as Myra wanted to unleash holy hell-fire on Laura, she was still no closer to persuading her snugglebuns to join her on the winning side of the rope. Unfortunately, she had nothing but the blunt truth at her disposal this time. "Steven, I've changed my mind, and I want you back," she told him succinctly, standing on her square to patiently await the answer she was looking for.

But Steve wasn't biting. He'd warned her about this when they first got together, and fear of hurting her had always been the reason that he leaned on their relationship like a crutch. But now that Laura had accepted him for who he was, he was walking on his own two feet and taking advantage of her while his heart was focused elsewhere just wouldn't do any longer. Besides, she couldn't have paid him enough to deal with her possessiveness ever again, especially now that deceiving him had become her way of 'persuading' him. Sometimes, headaches were just plain avoidable. "I'm sorry, Myra, but... it's over."

That's what _he_ thought. Myra had no intentions of taking his final judgment laying down. Her plan may have backfired... _again_... but that didn't mean she didn't have a back-up plan. And she figured that she might as well get busy with deploying the chutes. Curling her top lip in disdain, she shot them a glare before stomping her foot as she pivoted, angrily stalking towards the front door.

And that was the first time Laura saw that girl surrender. _Thank God._ At least now she wouldn't have to throw her out with her bare hands because she was seconds from doing it. She just crossed her arms and gladly watched the problem child make her exit.

Stopping just short of opening the door, she spun towards them with an enraged glower, her furiously twitching eye zeroing in on Laura as she pointed a vexing finger in her direction. " _This_... is all _your_ fault... _missy!"_ she hissed at her, the chimes of her voice hollow with determination as she staked her claim right then and there. "You may have won the battle, but you will _never_ win the war. Steven Q. Urkel is _MY_ man! And I won't let him go without a fight! _Hunh!_ "

And with that, she breezed out of the door with the force of a hurricane, slamming it behind her so hard that every trinket against the adjacent wall flew to the floor. The coat rack, the picture frames, and the fireplace utensils all collapsed at Steve and Laura's feet, and they recoiled as if an earthquake rattled the floor beneath them, looking around at the disaster left in her furious wake.

"...Well!" Steve chirped brightly after the beat of silence it took to absorb the disorientation of Myra's tantrum. Turning to Laura, all he could do was give a cavalier shrug, grateful that the squabble ended peacefully. As peaceful as it could anyway, all things considered. He knew it wasn't the last he would see of her, but at least he didn't have to evade her like a parole officer anymore. "I guess it's safe to say I dodged a pretty big bullet there," he remarked wryly, hoping that being firm enough would keep her at bay in the future.

Laura wasn't counting on it. She was willing to bet money that he would need a restraining order next week. "More like the smiting hand of Lucifer," she quipped as she continued to scan the disarray of the room. She made a mental note to ask her parents to change the locks if it meant keeping the house free of evil spirits from now on.

Deflating with a sigh of defeat, she was more than fed up with the fact that Myra always left a mess for her to clean up... not to mention that guilt over Steve's decision crept up on her like a cold chill the moment his ex was out of sight. She agreed that he was doing himself a favor by declaring his independence. But she couldn't help but wonder if he would have broken up with Myra at all had it not been for all these 'blessings' he was expecting from her... and she squirmed with ambivalence as it occurred to her that she still wasn't as 'free' as he was to even have an opinion about it.

For the brief moment that she mulled over where to start when it came to putting this living room — and her dignity — back together, she didn't even notice how Steve's wistful gaze gradually softened on her to drink her in as the room settled into a still silence. And he found himself stirred with arousal as he floated out of the hurricane winds and right back down into the poppy fields of love... _Myra, who?_

He became amazed by the exquisite sight before him, tantalized by the way she nibbled on her bottom lip while entrenched in deep thought. She always made him woozy whenever he saw her, but this time was... different. And he was suddenly swept into a naughty fantasy that had his heart pounding harder and harder the longer he scrutinized her.

It was as if this was the first time that he noticed she was all grown up. That's when he realized that being a free agent had its perks — he was actually _allowed_ to look now. And for once, there wasn't a shred of chaste uncertainty in his bones for being completely turned on by her right now, relishing the hot-cold rapture pulsing through his veins that he used to suppress out of shame. Not this time.

Actually, it was... liberating. In fact, he never felt so unabashed in his life. And he became hypnotized by how generously her fitted red sweater hugged the tantalizing curves of her torso, clinging to her supple breasts and contouring her lithe waist like a second skin. His gaze led all the way down to the sway of her hips as delicate details stuck out to him, like how her baggy jeans fit snug just bellow her naval, only to flair over her curves, teasing the shape of her bottom and leaving the rest to his imagination...

 _Wowser!_ He wiggled his brows mischievously, feeling quite grateful for the growing process. By the time his eyes lifted back to her pensive countenance, he felt his blood rush to his head, and he became light-headed instantly. Not because he wanted to faint this time. But because he was suddenly compelled with the most painful urge to gather that small, huggable waist of hers in his arms.

...So he did. After a lifetime of running into the same wall, it felt foolish that the wall was even standing any longer. If he was ever to be true to this new man everybody saw him becoming, then his tenacious go-get-em attitude had to be put to the test. So he just cranked up his bulldozer of courage and friggin' did it.

She didn't notice him closing in on her, and she went from pensively biting her lip to sucking in a silent gasp of shock, blindsided by the sensation of his hands softly landing on her hips. Jolted her back to reality, she held onto that breath of astonishment as she found herself being gently drawn closer to him, shuddering as she felt his hands boldly sliding around the arc of her waist and firmly hold her at the base of her spine.

It wasn't the fact that he grabbed her that surprised her. It was the _way_ he did it. No begging. No hesitation. No puppy-dog eyes. No flubbing, tripping or falling. He just took control. And that was _not_ the Steve she knew. No matter how attractive he'd been thus far, the Steve she thought she knew was still timid, clumsy, and tried way too hard... who the hell was _this_ guy?

Whoever he was... he was definitely doing something right because she was entranced almost instantly, her eyelids fluttering with desire as she lost herself in his adoring gaze. She found the warmth of his body oddly intoxicating and the strength of his embrace comforting, and her hands fell upon his arms in a soft caress. Her cheeks flushed as she took to him willingly, smiling bashfully and allowing herself to submit to the safety she found in his embrace.

That was more like it. Just like that, the tranquility they had been chasing for days blanketed them like a warm smile from the heavens. Steve cherished every precious second he got to touch her, his fingertips committing the ridges of her spine to memory as he gently caressed her back. It seemed as if the best day of his life had been every day for the last few days. As far as he was concerned, that was a record-breaking accomplishment, and none of his scientific breakthroughs could compare.

"Now, let's see here. Where were we?" he crooned as he regarded her a suggestive smirk, taking her tender surrender to his loving arms as his cue to proceed. Hm, he was better at this than he thought. "Ah-ha, now I remember. Abooout... right _here_..." he teased barely above a whisper as his hands pressed against her back possessively, gently molding her against him as he leaned in for the kill.

Just when his lips began to capture hers in the alluring temptation of his kiss, he suddenly felt her body stiffen in his arms as her hands tentatively clamped around his biceps.

...Because as bad timing would have it, _that's_ when it hit her. This is how _Stefan_ held her. Gently. But firmly. With the confidence of a stud who knew he was irresistible and would not be denied. And yet with the soft affection of a seasoned, selfless lover. And that was just plain mind-numbing. In the blink of an eye, she was bombarded by memories of when her own boyfriend made her feel just as special. _Remember your boyfriend, Laura?!_

She suddenly felt nauseated with bewilderment, dizzied by the onslaught of guilt and confusion that tormented her core until she felt a shudder of hesitation rip through her. Before she knew it, she felt her entire body tense up as she reluctantly leaned away from his lips. "Steve, wait…" she uttered hesitantly as she nervously unraveled herself from his embrace. Shriveling with confusion, she shamefully averted her gaze in search of her moral compass. It had to be around here somewhere.

When Steve felt her resistance, his brows knitted in concern as she threaded herself out of his arms... and left him hanging out to dry. He suddenly felt cold without the warmth of her body against him, and disappointment soured his gut. _Seize the day, eh?_ Or not. Apparently, the wall he was trying to tear down was impenetrable. It seemed clear that the venture to sweep her off her feet met its end, and he respectfully retreated with a step away from her.

Shrinking into himself as he suppressed his arousal, he candidly wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt as if that would reverse the sin of temptation. He certainly didn't want her to do anything she didn't want to do... even though all of the signals looked green to him just a moment ago. But he knew for certain by her guilty cringe that the light was at least flashing yellow right now.

As he shook off his confusion, her well-being instantly became far more important than his shattered fantasy. Besides, it wasn't the first time she rejected him. "What's the matter, munchkin?" he asked gently, growing concerned as he wondered whether or not he'd come on too strong.

Laura wouldn't necessarily disagree that he came on a little strong. But she _really_ liked it. Maybe a little too much. And for several tense moments, all she could do was catch the breath that he nearly stole from her, resisting the urge to fan herself as flashes of heat scorched her flesh. Regarding him with buckets of regret behind her gaze, she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat long enough to make a timid request. "...Can you do something for me, Steve?"

"Anything," Steve replied breathlessly, perking with determination as he readied himself to spring into the action without hesitation. Because despite breaking out of Myra's shackles, he'd gladly throw on another leash if his lady love was the handler.

Unlucky for him, she had no plans of tying him to a fence anytime soon. She kept her request sweet and simple. "Don't ever call me 'munchkin'..." she murmured impassively, shooting him a blank stare to indicate that she was dead serious. Even though she was still weak in the knees, being referred to as a rodent was enough to kill any mood.

...Well, at least she asked nicely this time. Blindsided by the elegant simplicity of that request, Steve shook off his eagerness to be her Superman with a sage nod, humbling himself as he tucked away that jewel for future reference. "Duly noted."

Now that _that_ was out of the way, there was room for her guilt to stir back up and disturb her conscience yet again. Growing pensive, she expelled a heavy sigh as the remorse in her eyes swelled until it became too difficult to look at him. And she cast eyes away as her gut soured with regret, curling her arms around her waist self-consciously. ... _What are you doing, Laura?_

She wondered how many more mistakes she would make before she dropped all of the hearts she was recklessly juggling, including her own. And then she began to speculate how long it would be before she would be able to look Stefan in the eye again. After navigating the maze of her thoughts long enough to find the right words, she tentatively spit them out, "And …well, I think I need more time to… figure some things out before we —"

 _Speaking of mood-killers._ Steve felt himself wilt with embarrassment from the inside out. But he didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was and so he modestly tried to assuage her ambivalence with feigned merriment. "...Right. Say no more!" he interjected emphatically before she could get the words out. He knew exactly what she was going to say and he poised himself with obstinance before giving her the pleasure of punching him in the gut. In fact, he found himself justifying her indecisiveness if only to dull the confusion that riddled him in that moment. "Afterall, you're still spoken for and I am _not_ a cad."

Or _was_ he? Becoming wistful at he chewed on that, his brows furrowed as he remembered that she was indeed taken... because he just heard himself say it. That's when he realized he hadn't been very responsible with subconsciously claiming her the moment he broke up with Myra. She wasn't even available! It was as if all of these 'blessings' had completely blinded him and made him forget that Stefan had a knuckle-sandwich waiting for him.

But by the time he cast his gaze on her again, the guilt that registered in her expression reminded him of something else... that he wasn't the one who had anything to feel ashamed about. _She_ had been the one in control this entire time and it occurred to him that she still had him running on a hamster wheel.

He was forced to consider that maybe it was just better if they gave each other a little space for a while. Sobering himself, he sighed heavily as he tried his best to overcome his disappointment with self-reassurance. "Besides... I've waited pretty much all of my life for this. A little longer won't do me in," he said with a dismissive shrug as a sense of resentment began to crawl under his skin. Squirming with uncertainty, he quickly averted his gaze before he could project his building frustration onto her, pivoting to make a hasty exit out of the front door.

... _Great_. No matter much he tried to hide it, Laura could practically feel his embarrassment radiating off of him. With every breath of awkward tension thickening the air, her heart wilted a little more with remorse. Seething at herself, her shoulders slumped with a disconcerted sigh as he tried to remove himself from the discomfort. "You're not mad, are you?" she asked him before he could go too far, suddenly mortified that he would begin to think less of her again. She even tried to remedy his confusion with a crumb or two. "Steve, I'm not saying that we —"

"Ohhhh, nooo! Of course not!" he replied disingenuously, far too eager to make his escape to allow her to explain herself. Pausing just as his hand fell on the knob, he peered over his shoulder at her and glibly offered reassurance, "I'm more chipper than a wooden splinter, baby!" he insisted brightly, lying through his wavering grin as he cemented his 'chipper' performance with a few grandiose arm sweeps. "It's quite all right! Tip over all the hourglass sand you need. The pressure valves are off!" _...He wished._ Because the frustration of having his hormones snuffed was threatening to explode right now.

And with shaky hands, he quickly scrambled to get that darn door open... only to find that his palms were too clammy and slippery to get a grip. He was still levitating from their embrace and he must've been more nervous than he realized. Wiping the sweat of his hands on the legs of his pants, he anxiously tried again only to accidently yank at the knob a little too hard, yelping in pain as the door violently smashed into his nose.

Laura just winced as he knocked himself silly, furrowing her brows with concern as he swayed off balance, clutching the door for dear life to stabilize himself. But he managed to recover from his dizziness long enough to trip over his legs the rest of the way out of the door. She knew he was trying to flee from the awkward situation she put them in, but that didn't mean she wanted him to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?!" she called after him just as the door was slamming behind him... and she anxiously waited to see if he would respond. But all she got in return was silence. And a dark cloud of dejection loomed over her as she stewed in her regret. Whether or not he heard her was irrelevant... she just hated the fact that she didn't get a chance to apologize to him before he rushed out.

"Sorry..." she whispered morosely to thin air instead, her head becoming heavy on her shoulders with shame. She knew all of the apologies in the world could never make up for the misery she inflicted on them both thus far. And what tormented her the most was that no matter where she tried to run and hide, she would have to break _somebody's_ heart eventually... and she really didn't want it to be him. If only her choices were that easy.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 30..._


	30. Walking the Tightrope

_**Chapter 30: Walking the Tightrope**_

 _Summary: Laura finds herself right back where she started when her plan to phase out her feelings for Stefan backfires._

* * *

 _ **DAYS LATER**_

Laura huffed a despondent sigh as she stewed in the studious silence of the University Library, idly tapping the eraser of her pencil against the open pages of a textbook on the table before her, unable to keep thoughts of Steve from permeating her focus and disturbing her studies. Staring off into space pensively, she wondered if he was back in the business of avoiding her again — she didn't even find him in his lab over the last few days. But she didn't blame him. The longer she went without speaking to him, the more the memory of rejecting him again haunted her conscience, doubling down on the shame she already felt for betraying her boyfriend.

… _Oh, well._ Her guilt wasn't going to help her ace this Economics test. With a dismissive shake of her head, she attempted to rattle her brain so that she could concentrate. But as she tried to buckle down and study the book, all she could interpret on the pages was senseless gibberish… because she just didn't care.

All she wanted more than a good grade on her assignment was an answer to the unsolvable riddle of her love life. Since thinking about anything but Steve seemed futile, she eventually got lost in the foggy uncertainty of her racing mind and irritably slammed the book shut with a sigh of frustration. Retaining any of this information without her study buddy felt hopeless… if only she didn't miss him so much right now.

Packing up her things and stuffing them in her shoulder bag, she rose from the table and prepared to leave, making a determined bee-line towards the front entrance… only to do a lightening-quick double-take as she passed the reception desk, blindsided by the last thing she expected to see.

The knit in her brow furrowed as she zeroed in on a young man and woman having a hushed conversation by the desk. From where she stood, they may as well have been at the bar of some club. But that wasn't what disturbed her. At least, not at first. She didn't recognize the young woman but she had a hard time pulling her eyes off of the crisp, silver-grey suit the guy wore... she knew that Hugo Boss flair anywhere.

Laura's gait came to a trembling halt as she watched them intently, squinting to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her. The two of them were leisurely propped against the counter, whispering to each other with the type of smiles that screamed 'ready to mingle'. It wasn't until the guy craned his head at an angle that allowed her to see his handsome, grinning face did her veins began pulsing with scalding rage. And her sullen expression gradually marred into a livid scowl.

…Was that her man flirting with some random chick? A chick that had managed to find the shortest skirt in existence. She also had the nerve to be gorgeous… tall, long-haired, caramel-skinned, hazel-eyed, and… _perky_ in some places. Well, at least she wasn't thinking about Steve anymore. Her mind rebooted into tramp-hunter mode instantly.

She needled her troubled stare through them, quivering with reproach at the sight of the girl beaming with a quiet giggle and playfully swatting at his arm… and acid began to coagulate at the back of her throat when she spotted the flirtatious caress the girl snuck along the length his forearm with a teasing graze of her fingertips.

 _Oh, hell to the no_. Whatever he was saying to her couldn't have possibly been _that_ damn funny. Laura's jaw clenched furiously, clutching the handle of her bag so tightly that her knuckles flushed. But instead of tearing down the pillars of the building like her bones compelled her to do, she stiffened with determination and impetuously approached them.

Swallowing the urge to shove this girl into the desk the moment she was close enough, she boorishly slithered between them, slicing through the poor girl's arm as she regarded Stefan with an antagonizing narrow of her eyes. "Gonna save some laughs for me?" she snarled in her library voice, mimicking their flirty lean against the counter as she deliberately turned her back on the thirst-pot trying to seduce him… which meant that she couldn't see the instant evil eye the girl gave the back of her head. And it was a good thing because she didn't need to get kicked out of school for clawing out those bright eyes of hers right here in the library.

"Oh, there you are, gorgeous," Stefan said warmly as Laura interrupted the pleasant conversation he was having, softening as if an angel had suddenly appeared before him. Not minding her intrusion, he was instantly stricken with awe by the most tantalizing sight he's laid his eyes on in a while. He would have healed his eyesight sooner if it hadn't been for her constant ghosting of him.

His flirty companion became an afterthought, and it didn't register to him that his girlfriend was peeved as he scanned her from head to toe as if to recommit her frame to memory. They hadn't parted from their last date on the best of terms — even though it had only been a couple of weeks since the last time he saw her, it felt like months. But it wasn't until the awkward silence got unusually loud that he noticed the offended look on his companion's expression. Shifting his gaze between her and his girlfriend's inquisitive glare, he nervously cleared his throat before making an innocent attempt to break the ice with introductions. "Uh, Laura, this is —"

"Uh-huh, _good for her,_ " Laura hissed as her expression fell deadpan, tempering the urge to jut one of her elbows behind her when she felt Miss Slutty Long Legs still breathing down her neck. Having no qualms whatsoever about imposing on their conversation, she rudely disregarded the girl's presence as if she wasn't even there as she grilled her boyfriend sternly, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for you, actually," Stefan replied candidly, quirking a brow at her as he tried to figure out why she was so sore — he thought he was just having a conversation. But by the disenchanted look on their faces, it quickly rang that both of them had assumed he was flirting. _Figures_.

Apparently, not many women could discern his seductive charm from his well-mannered charisma and Laura's snarky response made that even more obvious. "Up _her_ nose?" she quipped as her brows raised incredulously, gesturing a thumb over her shoulder to briefly acknowledge the waste of space back there.

"Uh, I'm _Karen_ ," rang the offended bells of an intrusive voice behind her. "And _you_ are?" she asked pointedly as leaned over Laura's shoulder to firmly reinforce her presence. She had no intentions of walking away without Stefan's number and she didn't appreciate the _obstacle_ that suddenly stood in her way.

And Laura wasn't having it. "The love of his life, if you must know," she spat back sharply as she pivoted to face her, "Also known as the one that's gonna pluck you between the eyes. The pleasure is all yours, _Ka-ren_ ," was retorted loudly with a sarcastic grin, the volume of her voice abruptly slicing through the regulated silence and turning heads from all angles of the room.

 _Oh, dear._ Stefan watched on nervously as Karen mirrored Laura's threatening posture and snobbishly sized her up. As it dawned on him that he deserved a pie to the face, he grimaced shamefully and dropped his forehead in his hand. Catching the scolding look from the librarian behind the desk, all he could do was give the elderly man an innocent shrug. He definitely hadn't meant to give the wrong impression and spark Armageddon. But before he could clarify to Karen that she didn't have a chance, Laura was already taking out the trash.

"And we're gonna need ten feet, Miss Thing. This is a library, not a street corner," she snarled disparagingly and began to swat the boyfriend bandit away like a noisy fly, asserting herself with a few dominant steps towards her until she backed off, her snarky insults echoing against the walls of the atrium. "Go bury your face in a makeup book where it belongs, m'kay?!"

"Shhh!" hushed the librarian with a finger over his wrinkled lips, sternly reprimanding them with a harsh whisper, "Quiet! If it's not a street corner, then act like it, or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"I sincerely apologize. This one has Tourette's," Stefan informed the librarian contritely with an indicative point in Laura's direction. Seething in embarrassment as he felt a sea of prying eyes staring at them, he regarded his off-the-rails significant other with a disturbed scowl, "That was cold, Laura," he gritted at her quietly.

Once Karen finally retreated with a snooty flick of that long hair, Laura gradually tamed her burgeoning annoyance by resisting the urge to reach out and snatch her follicles dry as she stalked away. Turning back to Stefan, her emotional impulses were still enflamed as she cast him a scornful glare, fuming at him under her breath, "Then you better find a parka 'cause I'm just getting started."

Stefan just pursed his lips incredulously, finding himself strangely satisfied by the heat wave of envy radiating from her. It confirmed to him that despite their recent fallout, the passion and magnetism between them was still there somewhere. Her irrational jealousy was very telling. And a bit of a turn-on.

But that didn't mean he was going to take her hypocrisy laying down, firing back with a spiteful retort of his own, "Oh, c'mon, I was just talking to the girl. With all of this 'space' between us, what do you care? It's not like I got drunk and tripped into her lips." _Unlike someone I know._ He bit down on tail-end of that subliminal remark but the accusing twinkle in his eyes said it all.

 _...Sigh._ Sometimes she really despised him for being so frank. It was like he was telling her secrets without saying anything at all. And his unspoken accusation rang clearer than a bell. Realizing just how crazy she must've have sounded for lashing out at him when she was the one still harboring secrets, every organ in her body shriveled. Her jaw clenched to keep her mouth from flying open in shock as she was struck with the backhand of reality.

Suffocating on the silence that lingered, she felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ache, gradually accepting the fact that ignoring her feelings for him over the last few months had backfired on her with a vengeance. The thought of another woman being anywhere near him still disturbed her spirit to the point of chest pains. The most gut-wrenching part of all was that she knew he could have slobbed Karen down right in front of her and she still didn't have the right to be upset. With a dejected sigh, she clutched her tote a little tighter if only to keep herself from unraveling with shame.

"Let's go somewhere and talk..." she finally murmured once she began to feel all of those nosey stares sizzle her flesh. She was also convinced that the thirst squad had the place bugged and the last thing she needed was a plotted take-over. She already had to fight off one gazelle today.

Stefan softened as he saw her wither with remorse and turn on her heel to head towards the exit without waiting for him to follow. Weathering the intensity still fogging the atmosphere, he just sank his hands in his pockets and shot the librarian an arrogant smirk. "Women," he murmured under his breath. Shaking his head ruefully, he calmly strolled out of the door behind her.

 _Wow_ , fresh air never felt so heavenly. Laura paused outside of the building as she stepped out onto the quad and took a deep, fulfilling breath of the chilly breeze that hit her face, thankful that she hadn't drowned. She would've done anything to undo the last few moments of raw emotion that she allowed to cloud her judgment.

But her sense of self-deprecation was extinguished by the startling sensation of a strong hand flattening against the small of her back, jolting her out of her daze as Stefan appeared beside her... and her heart began to race the moment she peered up at him, captivated by his Burberry aroma almost instantly.

They began to slowly stroll down the winding path that crossed the quad side by side... and the restless silence that lingered between them became so uncomfortable that she couldn't help but squirm with frustration. She found it easier to search for the right words once she pulled her gaze away from him to absently scan the scenery of the campus. "Why did you come here? I thought you had to work today," she uttered accusingly if only to redirect the spotlight off of her erratic behavior. Besides that, nothing else came to mind.

…Well, that didn't make Stefan feel very welcome. "I called off," he replied evenly, secretly stung by her indifference. He was hoping she would be more excited than _that_ to see him. Not too long ago, a surprise visit from him would've had her panting and drooling. He felt dizzied by the way things were changing between them so fast.

One of those things being Stefan's workaholic habits and Laura just quirked a brow at him. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see him… she just felt completely unprepared for the battle of wits sure to ignite between them — she certainly didn't expect to come to the library and see him macking the Dewey Decimal System today… or _any_ day for that matter because she used to have to beg him to spend time with her on his work days. "Why...?" she asked curiously.

 _Because they made me..._ That's what he wanted to say but he opted to keep that little nugget to himself. It didn't seem necessary to mention that his lack of sleep over the last few weeks had the photographers complaining about his baggy eyes to the point where he was forced to take time off. But that little detail wasn't as important as the real reason that he dropped in on her, which was to gauge whether or not he still had a girlfriend. "I couldn't stop thinking about you and I wanted to see you. Is that so bad?" he asked tightly, becoming steadily disenchanted by the interrogation.

…She thought it was a valid question considering that he dropped out of the sky with no warning, but she tried to reassuringly assuage his building impatience, "No, I just mean… well, you never call off."

"Never say never. Today's a new day," he remarked wryly, trying his best to keep the sinking mood afloat. The goal was to walk away from their encounter with his insomnia cured. The only way to do that was to get his future wife back on the winning team. "So… how've you been?" he asked suffering another beat of awkward silence, almost craning his neck trying to find her wandering gaze. He wasn't exactly sure how to carry on a conversation without suffocating on this tension she created and it was pretty disorienting. She used to be so easy to talk to...

"…Tangled," she murmured pensively as her eyes averted to the pathway below her feet. It was the only word she could find to describe her current state of mind, and she didn't have the strength to divulge further. She could only guess what he was going through... and she tried to do just that as she warily snuck a peek over at him.

Growing concerned as she noticed the dark circles under his sunken eyes, she made an even more concerted effort to avoid his gaze. Besides being worried about what her indecisiveness was doing to him, his exhausted face only reminded her of the heavy responsibility she shouldered for the drastic change taking place in their relationship. He could've fooled anyone who didn't know him but not even his flawless suit could disguise the stress she saw bogging him down. "...And you?" she asked timidly, almost positive that she didn't really want to know.

"Missing you," Stefan replied softly as he gazed at her with pools of longing behind his penetrating stare. He wished that he could say he felt untouchable. But right now, he felt like a wingless eagle, completely unworthy of his notorious cool and collected swag. He didn't feel _cool_ at all. His nights were sleepless, his days were restless, and the marrow in his bones was beginning to ache with insecurity. But instead of succumbing to his depression, he put on a mask of charm for the sake of carrying out his mission to get his woman back.

...She was right; she didn't wanna know. Because her frigid heart melted instantly. The sincerity of those two simple words immediately pushed her overboard into the ocean of longing right along with him. She was really starting to loathe how easy it was to fall victim to his powerful spell, feeling drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "I miss you, too..." she admitted softly, genuinely aching to jump in his arms and smother him with kisses.

It was nice to hear, but Stefan was skeptical. She couldn't have missed him _that_ much. The way she had been playing phone tag with him over the last couple of weeks told a different story. "Then... why do I feel like I have to do magic tricks just to get you in the same room?" he asked patiently, trying to keep his disingenuous composure from unraveling.

After exhausting every asinine reason he could find to explain his girlfriend's lapse in sanity, he was eventually forced to consider that maybe _he_ was the problem. He'd taken a lot of time since their last argument to evaluate his own faults in their relationship and it eventually occurred to him that he had completely taken her loyalty for granted. He certainly didn't expect to wake up one day and realize their bond wasn't as secure as he thought it was.

To a certain degree, he knew that she had a right to feel neglected. And so, despite her betrayal, he managed to swallow his pride long enough to seek her out, hoping that a little spontaneity on his part was what their withering connection needed. Thus his reason for looking for her in the last place she thought he would find her. "I know you hate it when I come on campus but I didn't know what else to do. You won't return my calls and every time I come to the house, you dodge me."

Damn right she hated it when he came on campus because these thirsty pigeons around here was just dying to peck at him. She especially hated it right now because she hadn't had time to properly gather the courage to tell him about Steve. She knew that she owed him the truth. Unfortunately, as she detected his anxiety, fear of his reaction provoked her to stay tight-lipped for time being. "I've been busy," she said monotonously, the rehearsed words rolling off of her tongue as if she'd been pulled by a string.

 _Excuses, excuses._ Stefan could practically smell the horse manure. The tables had turned because that was supposed to be _his_ excuse. She hadn't been busy enough to bum-rush his conversation just a moment ago. "Oh, I'm sure you've been _really_ busy holding onto all of this jealousy after ignoring me for weeks," he challenged sarcastically. By the roll of her eyes and the indignant scoff she gave him, he could tell that her internal battles were raging wars with her defiance.

As much as he wanted to steer clear of dissension, it became obvious that going through the fire was the only road to clarity. He became disheartened as he recalled a time when she used to treasure him like a priceless miracle. And now, all of a sudden, he felt like a half-eaten dessert — convenient for the taste but not the calories. There was definitely something she wasn't telling him and he was so tired of being in the dark.

"I know you, Laura — just tell me what I did so I can fix it," he appealed earnestly, trying his best to smooth out any wrinkles he could find. He was even willing to put the target on his own back if it meant getting back on the same page with her. Everything in his bones told him that she would find something to blame on him anyway. He felt like he was offering her the world and all he was getting in return was cold shoulders and stale crumbs that led to dead-ends. Case in point...

"You didn't do a thing. You're the infallible one, remember?" she replied with snide sarcasm, becoming agitated with his prodding.

Put off by her sudden attitude, Stefan halted his stride, watching her with a befuddled scowl as she walked ahead. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means." He wasn't the only one with a bone to pick around here because apparently, she had a gripes of her own armed against him. Pausing a few paces in front of him, she turned to face him and hard-lined an unresolved issue that had bothered her ever since the last time she saw him. Even though she knew she had no right to be angry with him about _anything_ , it didn't stop her from cherry-picking a reason, just like he suspected she would. "I know you threatened Steve."

...Oh, so _that's_ what she was irritated about... and Stefan tried not to appear _too_ nonchalant as he gave a dismissive shrug. Yeah, he told the Dairy King to watch his back. And he meant it. So what?

He'd been hoping to avoid touching that hot stove but since it was clear she wasn't going to let him off the hook for it, he saw no point in embellishing. "…How? Did he tell you?" he asked out of curiosity but he wasn't even a little sorry about it. In fact, he was extremely satisfied by the very thought of folding Steve in half like a broken down cardboard box, sending him through a shredder, and sprinkling his pulverized remains in Lake Michigan. He was actually surprised that he managed to keep his composure intact _this_ long.

"He didn't have to, alright? I _saw_ you," she replied sternly as she recalled walking in on their vicious stand-off. She had no idea what was said between them but after witnessing the fallout of Stefan's fiery temper for the first time a few months ago, it wasn't hard to guess who the aggressor had been. "Steve would never pick a fight unless he didn't have a choice."

Stefan just scoffed indignantly. 'Picking a fight' wasn't a very accurate descriptor in his mind. He preferred the phrase 'claiming his territory', but whatever. Either way, he felt no qualms about preserving his own relationship and his snarky response made that very clear, sticking to his guns with zero remorse as he remarked callously, "Yeah, well, if he keeps putting his lips where they don't belong, he _won't_ have a choice."

 _Ugh_. And Laura huffed an exasperated sigh as she silently cursed the prison she couldn't seem to escape called the neutral zone. Despite throwing salt at him, she was aware that his unexpected clash with Steve should've been... expected. In her carelessness, she made the mistake of leaving them alone together after months of denying them the answers they sought from her. It was only natural that their frustrations would eventually be taken out on each other. They were both equally determined to win her over and the stakes were high on all sides.

The complicated nature of her clashing loyalties to both of them continued to be her downfall. And so she really didn't know what else to do to but nurture her confusion like a handicap. On one hand, she knew she was completely wrong for taking up for the very guy she'd kissed behind his back… on the other, no matter how valid his complaints were, it felt downright immoral not to come to Steve's defense. "But none of this was his fault and you know it."

Stefan couldn't even believe that she expected him to explain himself. Didn't he have a right to protect what was his? Not even a year ago, she complained his ear off about the nerd's shenanigans and now she spoke about the guy as if he were a persecuted saint. He considered the paradoxical nature of this disagreement almost comical, frowning at her in confusion. "Do you hear yourself, Laura? Why are you even defending that fool?"

…Good question. What she found interesting was that most of her regret was rooted in the realization that she should've been defending Steve a long time ago. The more she got to know the real him, the more it occurred to her that people were still refusing to see just how genuine and sincere his intentions were because it had always been so easy to blame him… even when he managed to be the only one who did nothing wrong. She was just barely starting to get a grasp on what he meant to her and she just couldn't bring herself to appreciate the way Stefan was trying to bully him into submission with the threat of violence. It wasn't even his choice to make.

In that moment, she emboldened her resolve to be Steve's friend first and foremost. Whether or not they ever had a chance to be lovers became irrelevant. She had a promise to keep to him and she felt like she owed him that more than anything. "Because 'that fool' hasn't done anything but be a good friend to me, Stefan. And he's one of my best friends — he deserves a break sometimes."

…Oh, she didn't have to worry about that. Because Steve was gonna get _broken_ for sure if Stefan had anything to do with it. "So _that's_ what he is to you now?" he asked with disbelief as his jaw stiffened in outrage, trying his best to keep his riling irritation sedated. But his wounded ego proved to be more powerful, unable to reign in the sardonic cynicism that embittered his tongue, " _We_ used to be best friends, remember? I'd love to know exactly when I became a stranger to you. I mean, was the last three years just a big lie?"

His disgust over her continual support of another man was not lost on her. But all she could do was cringe, his stinging words serving to scramble her conflicted heart even more. He had every right to feel that way and she stomached the responsibility of bringing him to that conclusion.

" _No_ , of course not!" she insisted as her somber gaze finally found his, destroyed by the confusion marring his handsome face as she earnestly reassured him, "You mean more to me than I can ever put into words, Stefan. You always have. But I can't explain to you why this is happening. The only thing I know is that I can't expect you to understand what Steve means to me, too." Hell, _she_ barely understood it and the longer she stood in front of him, the more her dilemma pronounced itself.

…So did the outrage that almost had Stefan trembling with resentment. "'Steve' this, 'Steve' that — what about _us?!_ " he gritted with frustration, seething through his teeth until his temples began to throb. He was getting so sick of that name that he feared his ears would start bleeding every time he heard it. If her 'best friend' was so innocent in all of this, then why couldn't she stop talking about him? "I can't even look at another girl without you flipping out on me and at the same time, I have to stand by helplessly and be ignored while you fall for the only person in the world I can _almost_ consider a brother?"

…The more he thought about it, Steve had always been the reason their relationship ran into walls despite being the one who curated it. Even back in the days when he was barely more than blue juice in a test tube, he recalled that no matter how much Laura would beg Steve to bring him back, she would eventually end up empowering the nerd's right to exist as himself. Those memories eerily paralleled the confusion she was experiencing today.

At least back then, there was no fear of them not being able to bounce back to the star-crossed lovers they had always been. Nowadays, he wasn't so sure. "Are you at least gonna tell me what I did to deserve this?" he griped as he felt his impatience beginning to slip through the cracks of his buckling wall of dignity.

"…You didn't do anything, Stefan!" she confessed irritably as she felt her frustrations threatening to erupt, beseeching him earnestly, "Of course you don't deserve it! _Nothing_ about this is fair and I'm sorry!" She thought about the many times since their last date that she avoided him on purpose under the guise of being annoyed with him for threatening Steve. Which she kinda was. But more than that, she was fearful that his very presence was proving to be detrimental to her search for a clear answer. She could barely be near him right now without feeling faint with desire and that was a problem.

She knew that surrendering to him would mean that she would never get a chance to know for certain if these wonderful, unexplored feelings for Steve were worth examining. What she couldn't do anymore was deny that those feelings were very real and not just some phase she would snap out of. And the more she accepted that, the more she hated herself for the way she trying to tip the scales. It definitely wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. "What do you want me to say? You wanted the truth, didn't you? I wish I could tell you that I bumped my head and my feelings for him just vanished, but I can't, okay?!"

 _...So, why not just break up with him?_ She could practically hear her mother's voice seething at her in the back of her mind. And it was a question that she still couldn't answer. She was stranded on a tightrope and that question was like a rabid, drooling beast barking at her with fangs bared, waiting for her lose her footing and topple into the pits. Making that choice would mean accepting the fact that she'd lied to herself all of her life. It would mean completely erasing the fairy-tale she had her heart set on with no certainty if another was waiting for her and the fear of the unknown was just too formidable.

Her hands were tied and the only thing she knew would release him from his pain was knowledge of his own choices in this mess. As much as it sickened her to say the words, she curtly informed him of one of those choices. "You have the right to walk away if that's too much for you."

And that more or less confirmed to Stefan that he must've fallen down the rabbit hole. The very mention of losing her made his head spin and if she thought he was going to make it _that_ easy for her, she had another thing coming. "'Walk away'? Is that what _you_ want?" he taunted, his darkening eyes almost daring her to say yes. By the way she shrank away from the heat of his gaze, he could tell it was nothing but a bluff. And he just turned his head to lend an ear to the answer.

…Was that an echo he heard? Nope, just the peaceful ring of uneasy silence that suspiciously resembled a loud and resounding 'no'. And he took it as such, calling her bluff defiantly, "I didn't think so. And it's not what I want either or I wouldn't be here."

Of course she was bluffing. She had thrown him that line hoping that if he did the heavy emotional lifting for her, the transition would be easier. Unfortunately, he was just as relentless as Steve when it came to her, and his determination only made the weight of responsibility for this decision that much heavier on her shoulders… to the point where she felt like she was being nailed into the ground. Love was starting to feel like such a hindrance. "Then what do you want from me?!" she seethed, vibrating with frustration.

"I want a straight answer!" Stefan demanded tightly as he took a few steps in her direction to close the tense gap between them, "Is that too much to ask after all we've been through?!"

"I don't wanna lose either one of you — _there's_ your answer!" she belted vehemently, once again turning heads on the quad as students walked by… causing her gut to sink as she flushed with embarrassment once again. This just wasn't her day.

And by the way Stefan deflated with discouragement and silently palmed his face in defeat, she knew it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But all his grilling left her with was an honest assessment of her current position and she knew they would have to start there if they ever hoped to wiggle out this unscathed.

"Look… I'm trying, okay?" she murmured to him calmly, hoping that he could somehow hear her entreaty past the wall of his restless pride. "You have no idea what it's like to have to choose between two of the most important people in your life but that's where I am and I… I need more time. I won't be able to make things right if all we ever do is fight over something that I just can't change."

… _God, this sucked._ Stefan was stuck in the unforgiving grip of a catch twenty-two and the fact that he still couldn't pull some clarity out of this situation was maddening. But after a while of silently weighing his options, he came to the conclusion that there was no point is being pessimistic. It was clear that the only way to know for sure if he still had a chance with the woman he loved was to shuffle the cards and let destiny do the dealing.

He eventually grounded his escaping patience long enough to concede to the massive blow to his ego. If he had the choice to walk away, then his choice to stick around through the storm was just as crucial – it meant he would just have to deal with the fact that he had to court her all over again if it meant making her understand that he refused to let her go. He had invested way too much in her to give up now.

With a heavy sigh, he gently reached out to grab her hands, running the pads of his thumbs along her knuckles affectionately. "Princess, fighting with you was the last thing I ever wanted to do," he replied softly as he tugged her closer to him, "But you remember this: I am fighting _for_ you and I'm not ashamed of that. It's just… I feel like I'm losing you and I can't let that happen." It was an inconceivable notion that was still so mind-boggling to him that he felt cross-eyed every time he thought about it.

So instead of thinking about it, he deliberately redirected the energy to the possibility of new beginnings. Allowing his raging doubts to drain from his blood, he found himself in a space of compromise. And he was briefly sparked with the hope that it was enough to eventually lead her on the right track again. "Listen, let's just… start over, okay?" he insisted softly as one of his hands parted from hers to tenderly graze the ridge of her jaw the backs of his fingers. "Friday night. You, me and the stars. Just like old times. Give me a chance to help you remember how a _real_ man makes you feel…"

…Well, _that_ was enticing. And Laura felt her heart capitulating to that compromise… especially when she was suddenly blessed by his comforting touch. No matter how rocky things had gotten between them, her doubts never proved to be enough to pull her completely away from him — the power of his seduction had always been inescapable. As much as it stung to deny herself of his all-consuming affection, she tried her best to keep her intentions much clearer than her muddled mind. "…I can't make any promises about anything," she murmured hesitantly, her eyelids fluttering as she nuzzled her cheek against his fingertips. _Damn him_.

"I'm not looking for promises. I just wanna be with you," he reassured her, whispering provocatively to her as he released his other hand from hers to wind an arm around her waist and shamelessly pull her against him, "I wanna do everything in my power to see that beautiful smile again. To hear you laugh again. To hold you close and shield you from the world. To fulfill your deepest desires… I serve _you_ , Laura Winslow. No matter what, I've never stopped wanting you. Honestly, I don't think it's possible."

…And this was precisely why she'd been dodging him. She knew all along that being in his arms again was only going to stir up the unavoidable yearning she felt for him. She was still hopelessly smitten by him and finding some semblance of emotional clarity felt like a long shot whenever he was around…especially since the way he was fighting for her so unapologetically was pretty hot.

Plus, he just felt so damn good. She couldn't resist the strength of his embrace and before she knew it, her arms were slowly winding around his neck as she looked up him at him helplessly, forsaken by his addictive charm as she rested her forehead against his. At least his arms felt familiar. She could only hope that Steve's ability to hold her just like this was a fluke. "Oh, Stefan…" she purred with the fragility of a lost kitten, sighing heavily in defeat. "Why do you always have to say things like that?"

The line was thrown and the bait was writhing. All Stefan had to do now was reel her in. But he made it a point to cherish the few moments he got to hold her… if her track record of avoiding him was any clue, there was no telling when he'd have a chance again. "Because I know in my heart that we can get through this. You just have to trust me," he crooned in return as his fingers trailed down her cheek to gently grab her chin, lifting her head to steal a kiss from her. His lips captured hers tenderly at first, only to take her breath away with the sensation of his tongue lovingly dancing with her own.

…Yup, that'll do it. His kiss was so hypnotic that she melted against him instantly, falling against his lips as if she'd plummeted head-first into a bottomless pit. By the time he pulled away with a hopeful look in his eyes, she could barely remember her own name. Looks like Friday night was good to go. "…I'd love to…" she uttered bashfully, suddenly unable to tear her eyes away from him.

 _Jackpot_. Stefan couldn't help but smirk wickedly as he secretly reveled his triumph. Now they were getting somewhere. "Pick you up at eight?" he asked as he grabbed her hands again, strategically retreating backwards from her until she was barely within reach. He could've stood there and made out with her all day, but he only wanted to give her a tease of what she was missing.

"Okay," she confirmed breathlessly, still trying to find the shattered pieces of her stubborn resolve. It was crazy to her how quickly he could make her jump from one extreme to the next. She went from convincing herself that he was the biggest jerk on the planet to whimpering at the very thought of watching him leave so soon.

"Stefan?" she mewled just as he was about to let go of her hands, tugging him before he could go too far.

"Yeah?" he uttered, balking his escape when he felt her grip tighten.

"...I do wanna fix this," she murmured contritely, imploring him with boundless regret behind her hankering gaze, "I just don't know how." The fact that he was still so receptive to her was fascinating. This gorgeous man was going to be the death of her.

Stefan could say the same thing about her. But the fact that she was still susceptible to his charm was a good sign that all wasn't lost. All he had left was the hope that they could make lemonade out of lemons and move on to a brighter future. If they survived, they were only destined to come out stronger on the other side of this dark, murky tunnel of uncertainty. "Well… holding onto what we have is a good start," he crooned with a hopeful smirk as he lifted her hand to his lips, landing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "See you soon, baby."

And with that, Laura watched him retreat, feeling a shiver rip through her as she was plagued with a cold sense of deprivation without the warmth of his touch. And as he disappeared down the path of the quad, it became painfully clear to her why the choice between him and Steve was so hard. They both could strum the chords of her heartstrings until she felt weak with desire... but in very different ways. And yet weighing the differences on a scale would never be enough to help her discern which path to take.

It felt as if every decision she'd ever made in her life amounted to this one. But she was convinced that if she forced herself to think about it right now, her brain was in danger of oozing out of her ears. The fact that she knew she would inevitably break one of their hearts was unbearable, and that frightening notion only made her want to lay down her life for both of them…

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 31_


	31. Wanderlust

_**Chapter 31: Wanderlust**_

 _Summary: Hoping to prolong the inevitable, Laura considers dating Steve and Stefan at the same time. Meanwhile, Harriette comes across alarming evidence that her daughter's confusion isn't as innocent as she as thought._

* * *

 _ **SEVERAL DAYS LATER**_

Seated at the kitchen table with her books open in front of her, Laura was determined to fish for a little focus if it was the last thing she did. The more she forced herself to concentrate, the easier it was to distance herself from the unsettling stillness Steve's absence brought around the house over the last week. Besides, after the scene that she caused in the library, she was suspicious she wasn't allowed back there for a while.

Ironically, she found just the type of peace and quiet she used to pray for whenever he pestered her in the past. But now she noticed that the very air she breathed had become flavorless without his spirited flamboyance illuminating the rooms. And so, when he entered the kitchen through the back door, it was as if his presence had suddenly splashed colors onto a gray canvas. She couldn't help but smile warmly at him as he ambled over to her. "Hey, Steve. Where've you been?"

"Oh, I took a long walk," he replied half-heartedly. If she wasn't still skating uphill with her feelings, he probably would have coveted a blessing from her but… seizing the day didn't quite pan out for him the last time.

As if her poorly-timed rejection wasn't enough, he also had to contend with the deranged antics of his ex, who was now threatening to sue him for 'alienation of affection' even though she was the one who broke up with him. Needless to say, he felt that a little isolation was in order so that he could mull over the parody of his love life in peace.

Unfortunately, by the time he returned from his walk, his cravings for his lady love had doubled in intensity, rendering his hope that he could find clarity somewhere out on the open road completely useless.

At least Myra hadn't taken him hostage and made him elope with her. Yet. "Hm, where to?" she asked curiously, assuming he'd been hiding from her over the last week. As she pretended to give a damn about her homework, she wondered if he had any idea how badly she wished she could reach out and bear hug him. But she was fearful that once she latched on, both of them would have a difficult time letting go and now that her and Stefan were on speaking terms again, it probably wasn't the best idea to give into that impulse.

"Pittsburg," he replied indifferently… prompting Laura to peer up at him a perplexed scowl. Classic Steve shenanigans. The Energizer Bunny had nothing on him. "Over twenty-eight bucks in tolls! Who knew they charged pedestrians!" he exclaimed, intrigued by the costly discovery.

What was intended to be a quick walk around the block accidentally turned into a dazed expedition of Forest Gump proportions. By the time he realized that he had wandered countless miles past the city limits, he decided to just keep on walking if it meant shaking off the unsettling effects of this crippling ailment called love.

It may have seemed far-fetched but Laura wasn't necessarily surprised. He tended to think up all sorts of ingenious and creative ways to carry out any task, large or small… it was one of the many things she admired about him.

At least it explained why she hadn't seen him in a while but she found his familiar eccentricities oddly refreshing. Relieved that her rejection hadn't scared him off permanently, she couldn't help but tease him, "Steve, you went on a four-hundred-mile walk? What is that, power-walking for the chronically loopy?"

"Well, go ahead and laugh! But look at all these bottle caps I found!" he chirped excitedly as he reached into his pockets to empty them of the metallic treasures, dumping them onto Laura's textbook spread.

"Steve, I'm trying to —" she began to protest, before plucking out a cap in particular that shook up a bit of nostalgia. Leave it to Steve to completely throw a train of thought off-track. "Heeey, Fresca!"

"It was fresh, too!" If 'fresh' meant unopened on the side of the road, that is. But not even ancient lime soda proved worthy of distracting him from the confusion that fogged his mind. He'd been hoping that his spirit walk would clear his mind enough to help him conquer this riddle. But no matter how far he crossed the Midwest, he just couldn't seem to escape the intoxicating taste of her soft lips… or the hypnotizing allure of her flowery scent… or how empowering it felt to hold that slinky body of hers in his arms… or how the very sight of her quickened the pattering of his heart time and time again.

The list of ways in which he found her to be absolutely perfect was endless and had only gotten longer since their last kiss. And yet she felt further out of reach than ever before. It was time to take a little initiative and get down to the nitty-gritty of their little predicament here. "Laura... the reason I took that long walk is because…" he began tentatively as he pulled out a chair from the table and took a seat next to her, "There's something gnawing at my belly and… I think we need to talk about it."

"What is it, Steve?" she asked guilelessly as she gave him her full attention, even though she didn't need a preamble to know what was bothering him. She hadn't remedied the gnawing in her own belly long enough to conjure up any answers… especially since she knew Stefan was suffering his own bouts of nausea. But at least she didn't have to figure out a way to bring it up to him since he did it first.

Since every other time he confronted her hadn't quite panned out in his favor, he tried to ease into the subject as delicately as possible. "Well… ever since you professed your romantic feelings for me… I feel like I'm caught in this weird, wacky love-triangle!" he bellyached, his frustration with all of the unknown variables beginning to overwhelm him.

And it was an accurate assessment. But as far as Laura was concerned, it was as forthright as either of them were going to get when it came to defining this conundrum because she was fresh out of excuses or explanations that weren't obvious. "Steve, I have feelings for you _and_ Stefan. And I'm doing my best to work them out."

Steve began to speculate what it was that had her heart in this sudden tug of war between him and Stefan in the first place. He'd been hoping that whatever it was would eventually overrule her obsession with his counterpart long enough to allow in a little objectivity for once but that ambition was beginning to fizzle.

Perhaps it was time to look at this problem through a mathematical lens. And when the gears clicked in his racing mind, his eyes bounced around the frames of his glasses as he speculated over the equation, "Well, maybe it would help if I knew what _kind_ of triangle I was in. See, if it's an isosceles triangle, I got a lotta catchin' up to do! If it's equilateral, well then, I'm doing better than I thought... and if it's scalene, oh, just give it to me straight; I can take it!"

 _Sigh_. While that was an ingenious way to measure his chances, Laura was convinced that it would take way more than geometry to cherry-pick absolutes. With him being the genius, she was halfway hopeful that he had a solution of his own to put on the table. Alas, she became disgruntled when he came up short, reminded that she was the only one who had any math to sort out here. And her vacant response only validated that she still had a lot of work to do. "Steve, _believe_ me, it's as hard on me as it is on you."

 _Wonderful_. Steve wanted to seethe at all of the ambiguity. It was a little maddening to think that there was still a chance she would toss him right back into the pond of the undesired. Maybe Stefan was right… maybe the odds had always been against him. "Oh, I don't stand a chance! You and I have never even been out on a real date," he grumbled cynically, glumly sinking his chin in his palm.

He couldn't even get enough time alone with her to kiss her the way he wanted, let alone cultivate any sense of renewal between them. If there was one thing that had become obvious to him, it was that matters of the heart were far more complicated than any scientific field of study. "What am I gonna do?"

As Laura watched him deflate, she realized just how much she hated seeing him so disenchanted. Where, oh, where were the days when a dismissive quip was all she needed to brush off her concern for his feelings? Instead of deferring to that habit, she found herself impulsively extending an olive branch she hadn't anticipated on sharing.

"…Here's a fresh thought. Why don't you ask me out?" she encouraged as it occurred to her that it was the one thing he had neglected to do. Giving him that chance might help her round out the triangle he so eloquently described. Ignoring her feelings for him certainly didn't work — maybe going in the opposite direction would at least give her a clearer view of the bigger picture.

That's when Steve's lightbulb of hope flickered back to life. It amazed him that he hadn't thought of that considering that asking her out used to be a daily task. "… _You're right!"_ he exclaimed with a snap of his finger, baffled by his dim-wittedness as he stood to pace around the table. "I've been so shocked and amazed that you're no longer repulsed by me that I've _completely_ neglected to ask you out!" Perking with determination as the epiphany ignited his resolve, he poised himself to take the dive. "…Well, in _that_ case... Laura Lee?"

Oh, yay, he was gonna ask her. It wasn't until she threw him that bone that she realized just how anxious she was to spend an evening with him on official terms. And she found herself grinning like a fan-girl as he stirred up her anticipation. "Yes, Steve?"

"Would you go out with me with this Friday night?" he crooned with an impish smirk, confident that he'd worn her down like four flat tires. There was no way she was going to say no this time!

…That's what Laura thought too until she was reminded that she had a prior commitment that night, cringing with regret as the memory Stefan's persuasion came to the forefront of her mind. It was disorienting how easily he became the least of her worries whenever Steve was around… and vise versa. "Sorry, I'm busy..." she recanted dryly, her smile briefly falling flat.

 _Blink_. Steve's hopeful grin was instantly wiped with a disillusioned scowl as he peered over at her vacantly. Well, so much for that. The fruitless patterns emerging in this dilemma were getting too familiar for his liking. "Boy, I just walked right into _that_ one," he grumbled with a rueful shake of his head.

And disappointing him again was exactly what Laura didn't want. She could have just canceled her date with Stefan but after surrendering so willingly to the heart-felt plea he made, she knew ignoring him again would only make her an even bigger hypocrite… especially since the thought of breaking up with him still made her nauseous.

On the other hand, after denying Steve a chance for fifteen years, what could one little date hurt? She naively held onto the hope that she couldn't possibly muck things up any worse than she already had. "But I'm free _Saturday_ night," she added as her smile returned, becoming enchanted by the idea that she'd have him all to herself for once. If nothing else, it was an opportunity to know for certain if her heart had been playing games with her this whole time. She could only hope.

It was the lucky curveball that Steve's dwindling hope needed and the storm clouds hovering over him dispersed the instant he hit that home run. And he pumped a fist triumphantly as his life-long prayer was finally answered! "…Hallelujah!" he shouted gleefully, "Hell has _finally_ frozen over, yee-haw!"

 _Hmph… what a trollop_. Myra just scoffed in disgust at the sickening display of treachery she witnessed as she sat before the vanity desk in her bedroom… or what was _supposed_ to be her vanity desk.

In true Bruce Wayne fashion, she had long turned it into a secret spy hub complete with video and audio monitoring that fed from the frames of Steve's glasses right into her Urkel-ized sanctuary. Keeping tabs on him had become even harder ever since serving him a court summons for breaking up with her unjustly…and he still wasn't biting. If her future baby-daddy insisted on being difficult, then she had no choice but to keep a closer eye on him in more covert ways. Because nobody told Myra Monkhouse to kick rocks. _Nobody_.

She could see everything he was looking at and it wasn't lost on her that he hadn't pulled his eyes off of Laura ever since this deplorable conversation started. She was frankly tired of looking at her stupid face and as she idly buffed her fingertips across a nail file, she wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and stab her in the eye with it… especially when the black and white frame on the monitor shook as Steve began skipping a celebratory circle around her.

 _"I got a date with Laaaaura! I got a date with Laaaaura! I got a date with Laaaaura!"_ his nasally voice chimed from the monitor in a sing-songy chant.

 _"Steve... get a grip,"_ Myra heard Laura quip in reply… and she just rolled her eyes indignantly, wishing she could get a grip on that girl's neck.

 _"I can't help it! This is the happiest day of my entire life!"_ Steve exclaimed in excitement, causing Myra to gnaw on her tongue in annoyance. He never used to get _that_ elated when he went out with her.

 _"Actually, I'm happy too,"_ Laura chirped with a sincere smile.

 _Ugh_ … and it was so nauseating. "'Actually, I'm happy too,'" Myra mocked scornfully as she scraped her nails against the filer a little harder. This tramp had a lot of nerve.

 _"I'll pick you up this Saturday night. We'll have a romantic dinner at Amoré's,"_ crooned Steve's voice.

 _GASP!_ To Myra, it looked like the love of her life was carrying around his own bundle of nerve because she became outraged by that suggestion, her jaw dropping in shock. "Amoré's?! That's _our_ restaurant!" she seethed sweetly at the monitor, completely offended that he would even consider taking this harlot to the same places they used to go.

 _"Oh, I heard their salmon is to die for,"_ Laura acclaimed, her own excitement steadily pronounced by her widening smile.

"I hope you choke on a bone, you hag!" Myra spat wrathfully at the screen with a scowl of irritation.

 _"And Laura, I promise you. Saturday night… will be the most wonderful night of your entire life."_ Myra grimaced a little as the monitor spun and ran right into the refrigerator, only to get tangled in the nearby hanging plants by the stairs. _"Did ya hear? I got a date with Laura!"_ she heard Steve chirp to the plant before anxiously racing up the staircase.

Myra felt every organ in her body quiver with hatred for that man-stealing floozy. She _wanted_ to rush over to the Winslow household and smother Laura in her sleep… but all she could really do was watch helplessly as her honeybuns was lured towards yet another one of her fickle little heart traps. That didn't mean that he had to step in it...

This was precisely why she felt that it was necessary to be his eye in the sky — if he wasn't going to protect himself from certain heartbreak, then she had to do it for him. As far as she was concerned, love knew no bounds and they didn't have to be going steady for her to put her foot down. One thing was for certain: if either one of them thought that they could get rid of her _that_ easily, they were in for a big surprise.

"That date will _never_ happen or my name isn't Myra Boutrose Boutrose Monkhouse," she declared with a dramatic flick of her chin towards the heavens as she continued to file away at her nails, wicked in her determination to get an intervention plan underway as soon as possible.

* * *

 _ **THE NEXT EVENING**_

Harriette sat motionless on the couch in the living room with a bottle of detergent in one hand and a dish rag in the other… and she looked like she just saw a ghost. Staring pensively at the basket of laundry on the coffee table, her blanched expression was frozen solid with a scowl of concern, nibbling on her bottom lip in deep thought. Still trying to properly absorb a dose of shocking information she inadvertently stumbled upon today, she mulled over how exactly she planned to bring this up to her daughter.

Laura didn't know why she had been freaking out over her Economics test because she came home that night feeling rejuvenated, confident that she passed with flying colors. She was the first one to finish and she was grateful to walk out of class that evening a half an hour earlier than usual. Maybe serendipity was working in her favor for once. Knowing that Steve was still at school to catch up on his assignments, she was relieved that she didn't have suffer through any heavy romantic tension tonight.

"Hey, Mom," she greeted as she walked through the front door, shrugging off her leather jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. She needed to decompress before her dates the upcoming weekend and she gladly anticipated a simple night of popcorn and Arsenio Hall re-runs. Unfortunately, her bubble was burst the moment she spotted her mother looking completely spaced. Her gut churned and her brows knitted with worry as she approached the couch. "…What's wrong?"

Harriette's jaw clenched the moment Laura entered the room, sighing heavily as she sternly regarded her, breaking her staring spell for the first time in ten full minutes. "Sweetheart, could you come sit next to me for a minute, please?" she asked as she beckoned her by calmly patting the spot on the couch next to her.

…A little _too_ calmly, even for her. And Laura went on alert instantly because she knew what _that_ meant. She felt the hot water before she even knew why she was in it and she lowered onto the couch cautiously, suffocating on the burgeoning suspense as the silence got thicker and thicker. But it didn't matter how wary she was because the minute she scooched close enough, Harriette began batting at her with the dish towel in a fit of distressed fury.

"Ow-OW!" Laura belted as her arms went up to defend against the towel attack, recoiling in alarm. Needless to say, she was caught off guard by the nuclear bomb that just went off. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why a timer had been ticking in the first place. The last time she checked, she was in good standing with her mother so the confusion was hefty. " _What_ , Ma?! What's going on?!" she urged when Harriette finally stopped swatting at her long enough to shoot her admonishing glare. But all she could do was gape in silence that lingered a moment more, desperately looking for clues that would at least prepare her for the fall-out.

"Laura… I'm only going to ask you this once and I want you to be completely honest with me," Harriette finally uttered after the beat it took to land back onto her feet so that she get a grip on her maternal instincts. If she didn't, she probably would have kept on swatting her with that rag.

And her laser-beam leer was agonizing to behold. Laura feared she would start to melt if she didn't figure out why her mother was looking at her like she wanted to bury her alive. "Mom, you're scaring me..." she muttered tentatively, bracing herself for another towel strike. She couldn't remember the last time her mother tried to knock some sense into her and if that was the case, then whatever she did must've been pretty serious. So much for Arsenio.

"Oh, that's unlikely, honey. You're the one having all of the fun," Harriette remarked acerbically with a dubious quirk of her brow, letting the heat of her obvious disappointment simmer through her daughter's flesh. Because she wanted this chewing out session to sink in.

"I _seriously_ doubt that right now!" Laura rebutted as the suspense became unbearable. But when her mother insisted on drawing out that silent glare, she just deflated with an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes to the ceiling — would she just spit it out already?!

Harriette was trying so hard not see a little girl when she looked at her. She _wanted_ to look at her daughter and see a woman. But so far, all she could do was bemuse over where she went wrong as a mother, succinctly presenting the indiscretion in question. And by the austere look in her eyes, it definitely wasn't a rhetorical question. "Are you having sex in this house?"

…Okay, well, Laura didn't expect her mother to spit _right in her face!_ Where did _that_ come from?! "…Huh?!" she hiccupped in surprise as her scowl deepened with perplexity, springing from the couch as if her seat had caught on fire. Stomaching that scalding accusation was like being hit by a bus — painfully unexpected and sure to mangle the soul. "What are you talking about…?!"

Harriette anticipated bewilderment, as she always did when her daughter tried to run from responsibility, so she didn't beat around the bush as she calmly stood from the couch to meet Laura at her level. She couldn't _wait_ to hear her try to lie her way out of this.

"I was in your room this morning, handling the laundry pile you haven't gotten to in over _three weeks…"_ she began, subliminally emphasizing her dissatisfaction with the neglect of her chores, but that was another gripe for another time. She continued as calmly as she could under the circumstances. "…and I accidentally dropped one of your socks on my way out of the door. I leaned down to pick it up… and I found _this_ lovely little treasure hiding behind your wastebasket."

…The 'treasure' just happened to be the torn shimmery aluminum wrapper of a Trojan condom, which Harriette produced out the back pocket of her slacks like a street magician. And Laura's stomach dropped through the floor instantly.

" _Mom…!_ " she gasped as she gaped at the condom in utter horror. She immediately surmised that Stefan must've missed the mark when he tried to throw it away because there it was, as plain as day, taunting her with the memory of _almost_ getting away with having him in her room that night. And to think after all of that fuss they made trying not to get caught, neither one of them thought to make sure the condom was completely disposed of… _Face. Palm._

"And _this..._ " Harriette interjected tightly before she could be given the run-around. She knew exactly why Laura was in possession of it, as she went on to elaborate, "…is only good for one of two things: to protect yourself... or have a water balloon fight." And she had a feeling that it wasn't _water_ that was intended to be caught in this little rubber net.

Laura veins instantly began to flare hot with the embarrassment of being caught… but more than that, she felt riled with irritation by the fact that her mother thought it was okay to snoop in her room and it became the perfect ammo for deflection. "Ma, who told you to invade my private space like that in the first place?!" she cried as she raked her hands through her hair in frustration.

"Nothing in this house is private until you start signing some checks around here!" Harriette refuted sharply, the raising volume of her voice alarming enough to humble Laura into silence as she suffered through her mother's incriminating testimony. "When your father told me that Stefan was in your room, I said to myself, 'My baby girl would never do anything to jeopardize her future, even if she breaks the rules here and there.' Looks like I underestimated you."

 _Jeez, did she have to put it that way?!_ Every child knew that disappointment from a parent was way worse than blind fury. And by the defeated tone of her mother's voice, she almost preferred to be hit with the towel. "Mom, you can't just assume—!"

"Answer my question, Laura!" Harriette pressed firmly as she took a demanding step in her direction, waving the wrapper in her face to make sure she had a visual of the evidence. "Did you have sex with him in your room?! And don't you _dare_ lie to me — it's becoming a _really_ bad habit with you lately!"

…Well, _that_ stung. Mainly because she knew it was true and there was nowhere to run from it. And it shut her up for the time being as she anxiously chewed on the answer her mother was looking for. She had a hard time swallowing the lump of guilt that got lodged in her throat so that she could quell Hariette's concerns with the disgruntled truth. "…Not that it's any of your business but we didn't, okay?!" she admitted with a flustered sigh, timidly coiling her arms around her midriff as her eyes dropped to the floor. "We _almost_ did... but I told him we needed to slow down."

 _Oh, is that so?_ Harriette wasn't buying it and she shot her daughter a dubious sidelong glance and quirked her brow suspiciously. If they 'almost' did it, then why was the wrapper broken? Oh, she had a _looooot_ of questions. "He didn't pressure you into this, did he?!"

"No, of course not! C'mon, Mom, you know Stefan isn't like that!" Laura denied adamantly with a sour frown, offended by that suggestion. Actually, she blamed herself — maybe if she hadn't been so hormonally impulsive, she wouldn't be standing here trying to explain this to her mother right now. But she tried to do so in stride, delicately laying out her account of the facts. "For your information, we've been talking about it for a while. We _wanted_ to do it, we were very responsible, and with him, it felt _right_..."

…Oops. That sounded so much better in her head. Laura knew she took a gamble with that impetuous statement and found herself cringing the moment it flew out of her big mouth. By the way her mother's eyes widened to saucers, she knew that she crapped out.

"It's _supposed_ to! Don't you know that's the whole point?!" Harriette growled with furious sarcasm before laying into her with a few of more angry swats of the dish towel. "Have you lost your mind?!"

Laura recoiled frantically as she guarded against the strikes with her arms. " _Ow!_ — Mom, it felt right _at first!"_ she protested, back-peddling out of range of the towel as it flung about and tried to earnestly talk her mother down, "I just said we didn't do it so why are you flipping out?! If you don't believe me, look! It isn't even used!" And to prove her point, she needled a cautious step towards Harriette to snatch the wrapper and dig out the rolled-up condom… which was so tough now that the rubber crimped like old bubble gum between her fingers. "See?! Besides, that was months ago — you can skip this thing across a pond now!"

Harriette didn't think to actually look _into_ the wrapper… but to see the condom unused did very little to assuage her buzzing anxiety. The fact that her daughter had it in her room at all was the only red flag she needed. If there was one condom, how did she know there hadn't been others? "I don't wanna hear it, Laura!" she scolded as she tossed the dish rag into the pile of laundry on the table before sternly planting her balled fists on her hips.

"Thinking you can do whatever you want to do in this house is one thing! But being impulsive and careless like this is _not_ like you!" It was already bad enough that she was double-crossing two guys — how did she know Stefan was even the one she 'almost' slept with?! It was certainly disturbing to think that she had been getting away with this for a while and she wanted to be sure that her disapproval was not lost on her. "I can't believe you're even thinking about doing this before you're married in the first place! There's not only pregnancy to think about, there are diseases you could catch that could throw a wrench in your entire life! You have so —!"

 _Oh, Lord, here we go again._ "'So many plans' — _I knoooow!_ " Laura whined, irritably parroting her parents' redundant rhetoric. More than that, it was a pretty offensive to suggest that Stefan had a venereal disease. Like many of the lessons dictated to her in her adolescence, all of this harping was getting old and she couldn't have stopped her eyes from rolling if she tried. "Mom, do you think I'm idiot?! I _did_ use a condom!" And just in case she forgot, she waved the damned thing around a little.

Harriette didn't care if her eyes got stuck that way because she was going to hear it whether she liked it or not. "Which are _not_ always effective!" she rebutted sternly before dishing a cheeky warning, "And take it from me: two seconds of passion can equal a lifetime of butt-pains." She would know; her own children — the products of _responsible_ intimate activity — certainly knew how to make her posterior ache from time to time… like right now.

… _But it would have been sooo worth it._ Ironically, that was precisely the reason why Laura decided not to follow through in the first place and she honestly thought she deserved a little more credit for coming to her senses under the circumstances. Then again… she was almost twenty-one, was her mother really _that_ surprised that her v-card was due to expire? The way she saw it, she should be glad she was smart enough to use a condom at all.

"Mom, spare me the lecture, I've heard it a gazillion times, alright?" Laura retorted as she became steadily defiant. All of this hell being raised over nothing quickly became boring and pointless to her… so did the fear that used to grip her at the very thought of disappointing her mother… and it was kind of liberating.

It gradually dawned on her that beating this dead horse — _with a dish towel_ — was all her mother could really do to her. It would be irrational to disown or ground her over something that never happened… not that she would honor it anyway; she felt old enough to make her own decisions. And the longer she was chewed out, the more irritated she became that they were even talking about this anymore.

"Stefan and I are in love and we _were_ engaged once — it was never gonna be 'just sex'," she insisted firmly, deciding to stand her ground against all these oppressive and unfair policies for once. She was sick of being treated like a baby and her insolent remarks made that very clear. "Whether you like it or not, when I'm ready to go there with him, _I will_. I know what I'm doing."

"Oh, give me a break!" Harriette carped bitterly as she shot her daughter a vicious narrow of her eyes. That flimsy claim was so funny, she forgot to laugh. But since Laura still insisted on lying to herself, she took it upon herself to challenge that claim. "Are you _really_ in love with Stefan?" she asked suspiciously, scrutinizing her with a cant of her head. "…Or are you trying to convince yourself of that so that you can ignore what you're doing to Steve?"

… _Blink_. Laura just frowned in confusion as she tried to figure out where that curveball came from, offended that she even brought him up….especially since she knew deep down that her mother was the only person she couldn't lie to about him. Nobody liked to be called out on their bull and the guilt invoked by that one little statement made it so much more difficult to keep the charade intact. That didn't mean she wasn't going to try because as far as she was concerned, Steve had nothing to do with this issue and she was adamant in her deflection, "…What _about_ Steve? I told you already, we're just friends!"

And to that, Harriette just scoffed. She may have been the only one in the family who believed they were an item but that also meant she was the only one that had begun to notice Steve's dazed confusion. From her point of view, the boy had been wandering around like his heart was unscrewed and her daughter's naivety was only pronounced by her deceptive response.

And just to drive the nail into the coffin of the point that was proven, she identified one tiny detail that made her claim completely irrelevant. "Friends who make out every now and then, right? Yeah, sure," she grumbled incredulously, disgruntled by her immaturity. "Y'know, this little clueless routine you got goin' on really doesn't suit you, honey. And now, it's just plain disrespectful to everyone involved."

… _Like she could possibly understand._ It was easier for Laura to think that she was just being picked on than to realize Harriette was genuinely concerned about her choices… as well as she should be. Even so, her will refused to surrender to the accusations. "But, Mom —!"

But before she could protest, she was abruptly cut off by Harriette's scolding, "And I'm _not_ going to entertain it anymore because despite what you may think, I wasn't born yesterday!" she gritted as she reached out to snatch the condom out of her hand, causing Laura to flinch in surprise.

For a moment, Harriette just stared at it like it was the launch key to a nuclear missile. It might as well have been but she could only be grateful that her daughter had gotten second thoughts about ruining her life. That was when she imparted a grave warning, "I won't tell your father about this. I suggest you don't let him find out either because he would bury them _both_ under the jail."

…Well, at least there was that. Laura visibly deflated with relief because the last thing she needed was an enraged interrogation from her father. Actually, she appreciated her mother's foresight in that regard — they both knew that Carl would trip balls if he found out and that was the last thing either of them wanted.

In the meantime, just because Harriette felt sympathetic to the storm sure to stir if her father got wind of this, she had no plans on letting her off the hook. She knew that she couldn't impose punishments that would stick but she was a mother and she felt that she had no choice but to be strict, no matter how helpless she already was with this information. And so she firmly came down on her with the gavel of judgment. "Stefan stays _out_ of your room, you hear me? That goes for Steve too."

… _Oh, come ooooonnn!_ Okay, now Laura was convinced that her mother was just splitting hairs and she quickly became fed up with all of the dramatics. "…You gotta be kidding me!" she seethed as she glowered at her in disbelief.

" _As a matter of fact_ ," Harriette added sharply as her daughter began to press against her wavering patience, automatically regressing to the days when it was much easier to keep her daughter under control by stripping away her privileges. However, at twenty years old, she could only think of one thing that she would really miss around here. Make that _two things_. "Keep breaking the rules and you won't need to think about being alone with _either one of them_ under this roof again." So, there. The piercing look of contempt in her eyes dared her to challenge that threat.

…Laura definitely took her up on that dare. What did she expect her to do, create a schedule that dictated when her and Steve were allowed to be in the same room?! _That_ was where the line was drawn and she was determined to rebel against such absurdity tooth and nail. "What am I, five?!" she shouted defiantly, furiously clenching her fists by her sides until she felt ready to burst with anger, seething at her mother in annoyance, "You have no right to tell me I can't be intimate with _anybody_! What I do with my boyfriend, _or otherwise_ , is _my_ business! I'm not a child anymore!"

Well, well, well. _Somebody_ was in rare form and Harriette just hooked a surprised brow at her. She couldn't say she was expecting that kind of insolence since it was usually a cold day in hell when Laura found the nerve to raise her voice at her. But she wasn't surprised. Not after this. The only thing that surprised her was that she allowed things to get so far out of control in the first place. She used to take pride in the fact that her daughter usually used her head when confronted with risky business… but lately, it was as if she'd misplaced her head completely. _Somebody_ had to straighten her out before she made a huge mistake.

"You might as well be, Laura!" she snarled back and stepped in her face to assert her authority… and as predicted, Laura was again humbled into silence with a click of her tongue and a roll of her eyes. "You're acting extremely naive and reckless and I _know_ you know better than this! Get your head out of the clouds before somebody gets hurt! Better yet, wake up before you hurt _yourself!_ "

"It's _my_ life, Mom!" Laura barked rebelliously in response.

And Harriette was getting exhausted with that useless justification, disregarding it with a snarky counter-argument, "That may be, but you're forgetting one little thing, honey: no one does the hanky-panky in this house but the ones paying the boot-knockin' bills."

 _Flail!_ God, she was so sick of hearing that. And it was just one of the reasons why she was still seriously considering moving to Italy. At least if she were there, she wouldn't have to worry about her parents trying to keep her a child for the rest of her life. As long as she was in this house, the bills she didn't pay would always be hung over her head as the textbook reason for tormenting her.

"In the meantime, since you're so _grown_ , get on that phone right now and make an appointment with Dr. Pilar," Harriette demanded as a sidebar. Since her daughter insisted on going down this road, she might as well drill it into her head what it means to really be an adult.

… _Uh, wait, what?_ Laura's peered over at her mother with a scowl of confusion as the curveballs kept coming. And just exactly was _that_ going to prove?! "The gynecologist? …What for?! I _told_ you — I'm still a virgin!"

"Not for long with the way you're acting!" Harriette retorted, waving an admonishing finger in her face. "And once you even _think_ about becoming sexually active, you have to become more proactive in taking care of your body. How many times have we talked about _that?_ 'A gazillion'?!" Harriette just shook her head in disbelief — she had a lot of nerve trying to be so 'grown' when she was still _this_ wet behind the ears. "And you claim to know what you're doing..." _Scoff_.

…Maybe Laura hadn't been clear enough. Her mother didn't seem to be getting the hint that she had no plans on chaining herself to a wall anytime soon. So she made it her mission to spell it out for her, gnawing on her tongue in annoyance, "Like. I. Said," she snarled tightly as stood on her square of defiance and put her foot down once and for all, "I'm an _adult_ now," she said with calm, brazen resolve, "It's _my_ body and what I do with it is no longer your concern. Just do me a favor and... stay out of it." And without another thought of how her mother felt about that, she gave a dismissive roll of her eyes before stalking away towards the staircase to make a brisk and angry escape.

…Now Harriette was genuinely worried that she'd lost her mind. And she was definitely having second thoughts about letting her father in on the madness. "'Stay out of it'?" she parroted dubiously, struck with disbelief that her daughter's head was harder than she realized. "I bet you don't want me to 'stay out of it' when I'm cooking your meals or doing your laundry or paying your tuition! You'll _never_ be treated like an adult until you start _acting_ like one!"

Laura's response to that was classically simple…and completely ungrateful. "Save it, Ma — I didn't ask for your help," she murmured dryly as she stomped up the stairs. How could she be grateful when she felt like she was twelve years old all over again? Since her mother thought she was such a child, she didn't even bother trying.

"Is _that_ so?!" Harriette challenged, her words dripping with sarcasm as she feigned puzzlement, "So that _wasn't_ you that came crying to me with this mess in the first place?! Well, darn. I guess that means we gotta change the locks because there's been an imposter here wearing your clothes!"

...Her mother must not have heard her say that she was an adult now but she had no problem reminding her. Pausing on the steps, she clung to the banister to give her mother a piece of her mind, insolently matching her sarcasm. "Oh, don't worry, it _won't_ happen again! And just so you know, nobody waits until they're married anymore," she snapped in retaliation, brazenly allowing her irritation to speak for her, "This is the 90s and I suggest you and Dad find your way out of the stone age before you go extinct."

The disrespect was real. And Harriette's face dropped in astonishment as her fury ignited. Her chains now rattled, she trailed behind Laura as she stormed off and barked up the staircase at her, "…What did you say?!"

"You heard me," Laura sneered dismissively before defiantly continuing her ascent. She didn't care if her mom heard her either because she was officially done with this conversation. Like, seriously, who says 'hanky-panky' anymore? Her parents were so un-hip, it was agonizing. And it became an even bigger incentive to get as far away from here as possible.

"Hey, you come back here! I _did not_ raise my daughter to speak to me that way!" Harriette shouted furiously, having half the mind to chase after her… but she already knew it would be futile by the way Laura ignored her and kept on climbing the stairs without another word, disappearing on the second story. And since it was _like that_ , she decided to give her a chance to prove her wrong. "If you want me to 'stay out of it', then start thinking about moving out!"

… _Ugh_ … and her heart broke the moment she said it. Of course she didn't want her daughter to go but her emotions were in overdrive. It was starting to look as if Laura's wings were flapping out of control and it was such a helpless feeling as a mother to know she could no longer be a guiding force in her life. Funny how watching her kids grow up meant that she had to get to know them more than once in their lives. She was already worried out of her mind about Eddie's decision to drop out of college and become a police officer… now _this!_

Was she even ready for the idea of letting _both_ of her babies go? She wanted to tremble at the very thought of it… or maybe her tremors were the result of her rage pulsing through her veins because she went from scaring herself to death to erupting with one more vexing demand, "And you can keep those crocodile tears to yourself when this little triangle of yours crumbles like the walls of Jericho!"

Hopefully Laura had heard her. She wouldn't know because the only response she got in return was the sound of her bedroom door slamming loudly… and all she could do was steep herself in the confusing mix of fear and rage that consumed the following silence. After a while of debating if she should follow her, she just heaved a sigh and stepped away from the staircase to saunter back over to the laundry pile in defeat.

Her thoughts frazzled, she began to shakily sift through the clothes and fold them… and then inattentively unfold them again. It wasn't until she noticed what a mess she made of the coffee table did it register that she was still holding the condom wrapper. She became even more morose as she stared at it pensively and mulled over the trials of watching her baby girl grow up. It felt like just yesterday that she was changing her dirty diapers.

The fact that she was thinking about being sexually active before marriage isn't what bothered her… at least, not entirely. She knew this day would come. What infuriated her was how recklessly she was handling that responsibility with so much at stake. All the signs were showing that her daughter wasn't ready to plunge ahead into the rocky path of adulthood and her impulsiveness was extremely concerning.

It probably wouldn't have bothered her so much if Laura would have at least tried to stand in her self-proclaimed womanhood by being accountable. She may have tried to protect herself and she may have backed out of it. But she couldn't even be honest enough with herself to just admit that Steve had become more than just a friend. What worried her was that there was no way she could know just how far they had taken it to the next level. If she was going this far with Stefan, then... what were those two doing right under her nose? She saw the potential for disaster from a mile away.

But before she could contemplate over her bluff to kick her own daughter out, she was violently snapped out of her thoughtful daze by the sound of the door opening and closing. Startled by the sudden intrusion, she flinched with a frightened gasp.

"Hi, hon! Dinner ready?" Carl chimed brightly as he crossed the threshold of the front door and went through the motions of settling in from a long day at work. As he removed his hat and set his bag down next to the coat rack, he was initially oblivious to Harriette's visible distress.

Relieved to see her husband, she placed a hand over her pounding heart… the same hand that wielded the condom… _aw, crap!_ Quickly recovering from the gaffe, she nervously stuffed the wrapper back in her pocket while he had his backed turned. Well, at least she knew now that she didn't want to tell him about it yet.

"…No… no, n-not yet…" she stuttered hesitantly as she took a few deep breaths to calm her anxiety, praying that he hadn't spotted it. She usually didn't keep important matters about their kids from him but she knew that this was _very_ hairy subject for Carl. She was honestly concerned that his blood pressure would blow through the roof and she decided to defer leading him to that trough until the time was right. In the meantime, she had to try and act natural and it was very difficult considering how wired her nerves were.

The way he turned to her with a contented smile as he shrugged off his jacket was enough to satisfy her and she huffed a sigh of relief… that is, until Carl took notice of the mental anguish in her expression that she didn't do a good job hiding and his smile morphed into a scowl of concern. "Harriette? You okay, sweetheart?" he asked gently as he stepped to her and gingerly caressed her arms. "You seem a little tense…"

What sucked was that she _wished_ she could tell him so that she wouldn't have to suffer this type of dread and worry all by herself. But for the sake of keeping the rest of the evening peaceful, she tried to put on a brave face as she mustered a relaxed smile. "Oh, yeah… everything's fine," she reassured him as she calmly wrapped her arms around his waist, trying her best not to look as pensive as she felt. "I was just thinking… our daughter is growing up so fast, that's all…"

"I know," Carl agreed as his own anxiety over that very fact surfaced as a disenchanted frown. He didn't even want to think about it but since it seemed to be bothering her, he stomached the uncomfortable thought as he consoled her with a shoulder massage. "Frightening, huh?"

"Oh, you have no idea…" Harriette brooded with a sigh, thankful that he didn't realize just how subliminal that statement was.

"Don't you worry about it, babe. She's always done us proud, I'm sure she'll make all the right decisions," Carl said reassuringly before landing soft kiss against her forehead. As much as he wanted to stay nauseous with worry over Laura, his stomach was growling and he didn't want to ruin his appetite. Hoping he'd done his husbandly duties for the moment, he gave her another comforting rub of her arms before stepping around to shuffle into the kitchen, whistling merrily.

…Oh boy. He _actually_ sounded convinced. Harriette wished she could be as blissfully unaware. It looked nice. "Uh-huh… whatever you say, honey…" she muttered despondently before making a mental note to actually throw the wrapper away… because she would hate to accidentally make the same mistake Laura made.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 32_


	32. Sink or Swim

_**Chapter 32: Sink Or Swim**_

 _Summary: Stefan becomes Myra's unwitting accomplice in a plot to sabotage Laura's upcoming date with Steve._

* * *

Steve Urkel was just the cherry on Myra's pleasure pie, and it was easy to ogle at him in her spare time. She shimmied with delight as she watched him brush his teeth in a bathroom mirror through the surveillance hub in her bedroom, a shudder of arousal ripping through her as she watched him inspect his wide-open mouth in the mirror.

Taking care of his personal hygiene should have been a private affair, but he had no idea that his glasses were the focal point from which she could monitor his every move. While a saner individual would have been disgusted by the loud swishing and spitting, Myra thought his animated rinse and gargle routine was more exciting than a striptease, practically drooling as she licked her lips salaciously. "Work it for me, baby!"

He always did everything with such conviction and explosive passion. And whether he was picking his nose or plucking the accordion, anything he did was simply scrumptious to her. Watching him in his more vulnerable, private moments had become one of her favorite pastimes. But all good things come to an end, and her voyeurism fix was eventually interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door.

"Just a minute!" she called out before scrambling to turn off the video feed with a remote, mindful to hide her secret spying nook before allowing her visitor to enter. She quickly swiveled around on the cushion of her stool, which acted as a lever for a slide-out wall that concealed the monitor. By the time she spun towards the door, her real vanity flawlessly camouflaged the hub and anybody that had the pleasure of entering her boudoir would be none the wiser. " _Entre vois!_ " she chimed once the illusion was tidy.

Stefan could think of a million things he could be doing right now other than a random meet-up with the last person he expected to call him. But that was precisely why he'd been enticed to show up — why would Steve's girlfriend want to talk to _him?_ Needless to say, his curiosity got the best of him, and when prompted, he crossed the threshold of her bedroom and swung the door shut behind him. _This better be good._

"Hey, Myra, you wanted to see me…?" he trailed off once he found himself surrounded from all sides by a kaleidoscopic panorama of his creator's grinning face that plastered the walls… _and_ her bedsheets… _and_ the rug… and pretty much everything else. It was like walking into a nightmarish nerd bubble. And it didn't take long for him to figure out that he had crossed over into the land of the mentally unbalanced. "…Did you ever see the movie 'Fatal Attraction'?" he asked warily as he took his eyes off the dizzying spectacle long enough to peer over to her.

She had never been much of a movie watcher, especially not while she had broken fantasies worthy of screenplays to mend in her waking life. "No," she replied.

…And _that_ was even scarier. It meant that her borderline insanity didn't even need inspiration. All that she was really missing was a search light that cast projections of Steve's face in the night sky over her house and her mission to become his personal dictator would be complete. "Rent it. It's about you," he quipped dryly as he took another uneasy look around the Urkel Lair. It gave him the creeps. He didn't want to stay there for very long.

As far as Myra was concerned, they both had way bigger fish to fry than her dangerous obsession. "Have a seat, Stef. I'll get right to the point," she said curtly as she gestured to the bench at the end of her bed and Stefan reluctantly settled onto it. Sitting in front of him, she eased into her master plan with buttery finesse. "You and I are a lot alike. We're both _gorgeous_ and we're in love with fabulous people."

"So?" he asked with a confused knit in his brows, impatiently awaiting the punchline. He didn't come all the way over here to be told how gorgeous he was. And he certainly didn't need another reminder that he had it bad for his girlfriend. Honestly, it would have been nice to forget for once.

" _Sooo_ …" Myra drawled to tickle his curiosity before recklessly yanking the cat out of the bag, "Those two fabulous people are going out this Saturday night… with _each other!"_

Stefan's antennas of outrage shot up immediately. "Steve?!" he barked with a disillusioned scowl.

"You got it, baby!" she confirmed with a scandalous twinkle in her eye, the corner of her mouth twitching into a wicked smirk. Unbeknownst to him, his distressed reaction was the perfect primer for her master plan.

"And _my_ Laura?!" he snarled in disbelief.

"She won't be 'your' Laura this Saturday night," Myra reiterated sheepishly, just to pinch at his resentment a little harder.

…Stefan could smell the fishiness right away. He noticed that she wasn't _half_ as infuriated as he suddenly felt, vitriol pulsing hot through his veins. But the spark of fury that countered his suspicion was enough to launch him right out of his seat. "Uh-unh. No way," he denied curtly, shaking his head fervently as he began to make a determined beeline for her bedroom door. He knew coming here was a bad idea.

As Myra watched him try to escape, she strategically insisted on a more elaborate disclosure, standing from her seat to taunt him like a grinning fox, " _Waaay_. Steve will take Laura... _home_..."

"Ohhh nooo, I don't wanna hear _aaaany-mooore_ …" Stefan rejected adamantly as she gut-kicked him with her words, bowling balls of jealousy sinking his stomach straight through the floor. It was bad enough to hear this kind of thing from the horse's mouth. But it was even more infuriating when he had to hear it from other people. And now _she_ was joining in on the chorus of verification that 'the fabulous people' they were in love with were fabulously fraudulent.

Granted, Stefan wasn't as privy to her manipulative tendencies as most people. He wasn't even aware that Myra and Steve were broken up… and that was why he was the perfect target.

Myra knew he would be completely unguarded and she fiddled with his anxiety before it could be burned off by his searing denial. "Steve and Laura will _sit_ on the sofa... and uh, you _know_ what Laura's like when she sits on comfortable furniture…" she reminded him wryly, subliminally reinforcing just how _unacceptable_ the situation had become.

…He froze his uneasy retreat and shot her a perturbed stare over his shoulder, her reminder shattering his denial in an instant. The thought of them living together became unsettling the moment he learned that they had kissed. But with this treacherous insight now smacking him upside the dome, the very idea of them being in the same room made him nauseous.

Stefan didn't just know what Laura was like sitting down. He also knew what she was like _laying_ down. And to think that Steve had a pretty good idea himself by now was downright horrifying. "…Uh oh..." he uttered nervously as the revelation dropped on him like a ton of bricks and he began to pace in deep thought.

Myra felt no qualms about making him squirm, deliberately pricking his nerve endings with a brightly painted picture of the frightening possibilities. "They'll _talk._ They'll _smile._ They'll laugh! 'Ha-ha-ha!'" she chirped to demonstrate the perils of forbidden mutual bliss — the type that neither of them consented to as the significant others.

And then, like clockwork, she unraveled into her classic damsel in distress act, wistfully choking up as if the reality of it all hit her just now. "They'll look into each other's eyes and then they'll…" — _sniffle, sniffle_ — "…they'll..."

"Don't _go_ there!" Stefan interjected sternly, refusing to swallow the bitter pill she was force-feeding him.

But ever true to her desperation, she persisted with a convincing charade of despair. "…Oh, _God!"_ she cried in devastation, sobbing dramatically as she shriveled into herself like a sad little bunny, _"_ The thought of my sweet, sexy Stevie in the arms of another!"

If Stefan thought he was on edge about Laura's disloyalty before, this new development had officially pushed him over the cliff. Her weeps stoked his concern until he was finally convinced that staying stagnate on this issue was out of the question. "Okay, we gotta do something..." he murmured nervously as a hand lifted to rub his chin, his mind instantly racing towards a game plan.

Myra was secretly loving every minute of his dread. Not only did it mean she no longer had to suffer through such crippling jealousy by herself, it also meant she was a step closer to green-lighting her covert operation.

As artfully as she melted into a puddle of helpless tears, she just as abruptly perked up again with unbothered composure. "Here's a thought!" she chirped brightly, leaving absolutely no traces of sorrow in the coy smirk that spread across her lips. "You and I can prevent this tragedy," she suggested with snake oil on her tongue, enticing him with a remedy for their collective anxiety.

… _This chick was weird._ And Stefan was smart enough to catch onto that as he peered at her skeptically. But weird didn't necessarily equate to stupid... hopefully. It was definitely a gamble to take her word for it.

Even though he had no evidence to support her claim, giving Laura the benefit of the doubt was a method that had long exhausted itself. Not to mention the fact that Steve's girlfriend, _of all people_ , was the one sounding the alarm. She had more to lose than gain by lying on the very guy she was insanely obsessed with. And dammit, if she knew of a way to prevent their pathetic undoing, then he was _all_ ears. "How?"

Beneath her masterful façade, Myra was buzzing with excitement. Now that she had his attention, she could dish out the orders of his… _assignment_. "You're taking Laura out the night before, right?" she asked, calmer than a monk on morphine.

"…Right," he muttered suspiciously ...how did she know _that?_ Now he was even more convinced that she had the scoop in the dirt and he listened intently for her insight.

"All you have to do is make sure Laura arrives home at _exactly_ 10:45," she twittered with the confidence of a bank robber.

… _And?_ She really liked to drag out the suspense, didn't she? He suddenly had a feeling that she had done this before. "Well, what's gonna happen at 10:45?"

"Ha-ha!" she cackled, bells of mischief ringing in her sugary voice, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that, model boy. All you need to know is that the natural order of the universe will be restored."

 _Uh… okay._ That seemed simple enough. It probably would have been a good idea to press for details but Stefan was more concerned about the result — he really could care less _how_ the plan unfolded… as long as it was effective. "And Laura will be mine?"

" _Forever,"_ Myra reassured with thirsty, unflinching resolve. Now that she'd managed to get Laura's puppet onboard, there wasn't a doubt in her mind that her scheme was infallible. All that she needed now was to verbally bind the agreement, extending a hand out so that they could shake on it. "Do we have a deal?"

"...I dunno, Myra. I feel like I'm makin' a deal with the Devil," he mused as he suspiciously rubbed his chin. He had a good reason for his ambivalence — he could practically see the horns growing out of her head. But maybe it was a chance to scrape at the bottom of this dilemma once and for all.

It didn't take long to come to a decision once the disturbing picture Myra had just painted became clearer in his mind's eye. Considering that Laura was hell-bent on leading the lie parade, the only way to know for sure was to see for himself. "Okay, I'm in," he agreed and quickly took her hand to seal their agreement. Hopefully, he wouldn't regret this. _Showtime_.

* * *

 _ **LATE FRIDAY NIGHT…**_

"Dinner was so beautiful…" Laura swooned as Stefan helped her out of the passenger side of his convertible. It seemed like forever since the last time she could stand next to him without feeling fearful or guilty. Instead of analyzing the last seven months like she expected him to do, he had shown her — in only the way he could — that she deserved the world and he would never fail to deliver it to her no matter what they were going through. He really must've thought she was a Princess. "I've never seen Chicago that high up before. Thank you."

Everything about their night was magical and certainly fit for royalty. A warm smile surfaced as she grabbed his hand and gave it a gracious squeeze, committing their romantic date to memory as she reflected on the breathtaking 360-degree view they had of the entire city from the top of the Sears Tower. They could see the mammoth expanse of Lake Michigan meshing into the darkness of the moonlit sky and the grid of twinkling city lights reached in every direction for as far as the eye could see.

He had arranged a private candlelight dinner and a personal violinist that serenaded them while they nursed a decadent meal of lobster and pasta. They laughed, reminisced over old times, and even managed to forget about their drama for a little while. It was nice. It was calming and familiar. It felt like they were friends again. And as they began to stroll down the sidewalk hand-in-hand, she felt like her feet were barely touching the ground.

As she expected, she had become ensnared by his spell once again. By the time the evening began to wind down, she found herself mulling over what a future with him would be like. And by showing her this lovely night, it was as if he had pressed a reset button on her… unbeknownst to Stefan, who had been desperately trying to cope with the restless anticipation of knowing that Myra had a mysterious trap set for them at the house.

He appeared the most relaxed she'd seen him in a while. But it only _appeared_ that way. She would have never been able to guess that he had been trying not to squirm with anxiety the entire date. Ever the masterful charmer, the smooth lashings of his silver tongue were steady and unwavering. "Don't thank me, gorgeous. I would have arranged dinner on a cloud if I could've. One especially reserved for an angel like you."

Secretly, as they inched closer and closer to her house, he felt more and more nervous about what they were going to find there at 10:45… he took a quick gander at his watch and realized he had exactly six minutes left until he was due to bring her back. And he made a subtle effort to slow down their gait to make sure they didn't make it to her yard a moment too soon.

Laura didn't mind or even notice the snail's pace at which they walked towards the gate, still enchanted by the euphoria induced by his words. "Mmm… trust me, it was close enough," she murmured sheepishly, marveling over how endlessly the tallest building in the middle America reached for the heavens… a thought that triggered another whimsical memory and a soft smirk spread across her lips. "Kinda reminds me of that time we snuck to the top of the Eiffel Tower…"

"Ahh, yes, the kiss of three-thousand seconds on top of the world…" he crooned pensively as they reached the gate, taking his sweet time unfastening the latch to open it for her.

"Three-thousand and ten… you cheated," Laura reminded him with a wry smirk, entrancing him with the adoration he detected behind her gaze… and as he absently pushed the gate open for her, he allowed himself to forget that he should've been suspicious — how did he know she wasn't running back to Steve and looking at him the exact same way? Even so… the angelic sparkles of her brown irises were hypnotic.

"Maybe next time, we should try to top that record…" he said softly as he disregarded their journey to the door, pausing by the foot of the steps to turn to her and gingerly take her other hand in his grasp, hoping to soften her up enough to make a subliminal suggestion. "…when we get to Italy…" he added cheekily.

…Laura's sense of optimism popped like an over-inflated balloon. They managed to survive the entire night without bringing that up but she should have known that he would try to poke that sleeping elephant eventually. She just sighed heavily and averted her gaze… because she still didn't have an answer for him. "Stefan, look —"

"I know, I know, you're still thinking about it…" he interjected with an apathetic shrug. He knew she didn't have an answer. If she did, she wouldn't be dating Steve behind his back… _allegedly_. But he wasn't the type to let an opportunity to pass him by, not even when it came to setting the stage for the scene waiting to meet them inside. And if, according to Myra, she was going to 'be his forever,' he was suspicious that staying in her good graces was the way to go.

"Listen, about that. Maybe I have been overbearing and... more than a little jealous and possessive. You know how much I love you. It would mean the world to me if you came with me. But I only want you to go if _you_ want to. It's not fair to pressure you… and I'm sorry." He sounded sorry. But he wasn't. At least, not yet. Hopefully, he wouldn't have anything else to pretend to be sorry about when they walked through that door… which he found himself sneaking a peek at from time to time, along with a casual, unassuming glimpse at his watch. _Four minutes._

 _Awww_. There he went again, bamboozling her with his drop dead gorgeousness and gracious understanding. Just when Laura was hoping he'd give her a reason to jump ship, his magnetism and sincerity became irresistible, completely oblivious to his muted fidgeting. "Don't be. I'm the only one who should be sorry about anything. Well...everything," she whispered to him apologetically as she stepped closer to him, her senses engulfed by his alluring aura.

As she looked into the pools of longing in his eyes, she felt inspired to lighten the mood, if only to keep from remembering why they ever fell out of sorts. And she broke into an amused smirk as the yelling match she had with her mom the other night came to mind. "Besides… might not be much to think about. My mom threatened to kick me out," she revealed nonchalantly.

Stefan went from getting lost in her piercing stare to scowling at her in concern, wondering when Harriette became so savage... that is, until he remembered who her daughter was. "What? How come?"

"She found the condom," she said with an annoyed purse of her lips and a roll of her eyes. "I told her we didn't do it but she still freaked out. But don't worry. She won't _really_ kick me out," she reassured him when she spotted the horror that surfaced on his expression. It had been a couple of days since she even spoke to her mother but she wasn't worried. She knew that if her mother wasn't bluffing, all of her stuff would be boxed up and waiting for her on the porch right now. It wasn't.

That was a relief to hear and he visibly relaxed… but it was short-lived once it occurred to him that Mr. Winslow would probably arrest him on sight the next time he ran into him. "Awww, great…" he groaned as he peeked at the door again… and he wondered if he was about to walk into a wasp's nest. A bad feeling crept beneath his skin as he snuck another quick glimpse at his watch. _Two minutes_.

…Maybe this wasn't a good omen. Maybe it was a sign that he should back out before it was too late. He took a quick glimpse at the gate and wondered if he should abort, taking a few tentative steps away from the house. "Did she tell your Dad? There's not a warrant out on me, is there?"

"Oh, c'mon, scaredy-cat," she teased with a giggle, tickled by his uneasiness as she just reached out to grab his hand and tug him back over to her. Looping her arm through his, she pulled him up the porch steps. "You're safe for now. At least until my mother decides to blackmail me."

For some reason, he couldn't get the theme from 'Jaws' out of his head as they ascended the steps and inched closer and closer to the shut front door of her house. He could only hope Myra wasn't careless enough to set up a plot with her parents there… but then he considered that maybe he was overreacting. Maybe the plan wasn't as nefarious as he assumed.

Amazingly, none of his anxiety registered in his body language as he skillfully kept his mask from faltering, willingly following her lead. "But how did she find it? I could've _sworn_ that I threw it away…" he pondered as he attempted to immerse himself in the humor Laura brought out of the situation.

"Not _all_ the way. Apparently, your aim was a little off," she remarked with a wink just as they approached the closed door and turned to face each other.

"Heh. I'll try to work on that," Stefan quipped back with a mustered chuckle of his own… just as the beeper on his watch began to twitter like a wounded bird beneath the cuff of his sleeve. Startled by the sound, he quickly released her hands and scrambled to turn the damn thing off.

 _Blink!_ Laura flinched a little as he ripped his grip from hers and started to fuss with his watch. Her brows knitted in concern as she picked up on his nervous energy for the first time all night. When she noticed how earnestly he began glimpsing over at the door, it made her do it too and wonder what he was looking at. "What is it?"

"Nah, n-nothing… uh… this stupid thing is broken, that's all," he stammered as his mind began hop-scotching, removing the watch from his wrist when it wouldn't stop beeping and aimlessly tossing it in the bushes, desperately scrambling to get control of the reigns of his withering composure.

Laura quirked a brow in confusion, wondering if he was really okay with throwing away a three-hundred dollar watch. If it was broken, all he had to do was get it repaired… but if he changed his mind, he knew where to find it.

Maybe it was a good idea to make sure the coast was clear before proceeding — it was his last chance to find a way out. "Uh… I guess that means I shouldn't come in, huh?" _Please say no… please say no…_

Brushing off the awkward tension she was vigilantly trying to avoid tonight, she just reassured him he wouldn't walk into the house with a shotgun pointed at him if _that's_ what he was worried about. "Of course you can. But just for a little while. They went out tonight and they're usually not home before midnight."

"Yeah, and the last time you said that I almost met my maker," he reminded her wryly, trying his best not to let on how hard he was staring at her hand on the door knob as her steady grip on it just idled there. All he could do was ignore his shriveling gut and hope that staying patient would give him an advantage. He continued with their lighthearted banter if only to keep himself calm enough to face this mousetrap.

It crossed her mind for a split second that maybe he was anxious about running into Steve… which was warranted because she began to worry about that too. Maybe if she just hid him in her bedroom like she usually did, there was no fear of him crossing paths with anybody. It was times like this that house rules became null and void and she considered sneaking him in through the back door… only to shrug again when tuned into the fact that she may have been overthinking it.

"It's fine, I promise. Besides, I kind of get a kick outta making them sweat," Laura admitted with a mischievous smirk as she declared her independence right then and there. It felt good not to care about what her parents thought for once. "Just remember to bob and weave if my Mom wields a dish rag. I'm sure you'll survive," she quipped just as her hand gave the knob a twist and began to push the door ajar.

…Talk about sweating. _Moment of truth._ Behind Stefan's relaxed smile was antsy anticipation as the door creaked on its hinges… but all he could do was take a deep breath and hope for the best. In this case, the best scenario was finding nothing behind that door, but he braced himself for the worst as well… whatever _that_ was…

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 33_


	33. State of Shock

_**Chapter 33: State of Shock**_

 _Summary: Laura is forced to face the music when tensions mount amidst the fall-out of Myra's plot to get Steve back._

* * *

Nothing could have prepared Laura and Stefan for the absurdity waiting for them in the living room. The moment they crossed the threshold of the front door, their faces dropped like hot plates, the amusement once brightening their expressions marring into frowns of bewilderment as their easy stride was ground to a halt. Laura felt like she stumbled through a haunted portal into the past… and Stefan felt like he'd walked right into a steamy hotel room.

In an instant, the serenity of their night was butchered with a sense of impending chaos. The vibes became so awkward so quickly that their heads spun, disoriented by the sight of Myra — polka-fabulous from head to toe — sprawled all over Steve on the couch like a German lioness, attached to his lips as if they were super-glued together. What threw Laura off the most was that he didn't seem to be suffocating like the last time she saw them in this position. In fact, from her point of view, he was willingly submerged. And her heart started to pound, pumping colds waves of envy and resentment through her veins.

The sound of the opening door must've been Myra's cue, but she was distracted by the rewards of not only satisfying her thirst for revenge but her thirst for her snugglebuns' lips. Spying on him this whole time had only stoked the flames of her desires and by the time she had him right where she wanted him with the lure of cheese, polka music, and lederhosen, she was fully committed to draining his life force if it meant reclaiming what belonged to her. She gladly remained attached to Steve by the string of dairy they chewed on Lady and the Tramp style, connected at the lips until she was sure her nemesis got a nice eye-full of the necking.

Stefan just watched in silent confusion as he tried to piece together the purpose of luring Laura into _this_ … That is, until he took a glimpse over at her and detected disappointment seeping out of her pores. And just like that, he found himself descending right back into his grudges with everybody in the damn room as it occurred to him that the plan had been to make Laura jealous… over _Steve_. And that was infuriating.

"…Steve!" Laura seethed sharply, demanding their attention once the sight of him sinking submissively into the cushions beneath Myra's hungry ravishing became too nauseating to stomach. A nerve or two had been struck.

Myra hopped off of her defenseless prey like an innocent little cherub trapped in a demon's den. "Oh, my!" she twittered with feigned surprise, revealing a wide-eyed Steve clutching the couch beneath him like it had become a lifeboat, the rope of string cheese dangling from the corner of his mouth.

It was the hallmark of an honorable and faithful man buckling under the pressure of unbearable temptation. He felt weak with guilt as he spotted his _real_ love glowering at him in confusion from across the room. "Laura...!" he chirped nervously, scrambling to claw the cheese cord out of his mouth and drape it on the ruffles of Myra's shoulder pads, frantically trying to hit the undo button on what she just saw.

He then peeled away from the couch and sheepishly approached Laura, hoping she would be understanding enough to realize that kissing Myra was the last thing he wanted to do, especially not when his dream date with her was right around the corner. "Th-th-this isn't what it looks like..." he stammered skittishly.

But to Laura, it was exactly what it looked like… especially since this gut-check was long overdue. What surprised her was that her first impulse was to launch her purse at them in a fit of green-eyed rage. But she couldn't. It felt like her feet were cemented to the spot she stood in as her gut shriveled up like a raisin. She recognized for the first time that she wasn't just attracted to Steve… she felt greedily possessive of him in a way that made her question her own sanity. It was a jarring wake-up call.

This must be what it felt like whenever Steve had to watch her swoon over Stefan, who she nervously snuck a peek at… and he did not look happy. But he wasn't glaring at her… he was glaring at Myra, silently scolding her from where he stood. And it didn't take long for her to put two and two together, realizing that she had been lured into this emotional ambush on purpose.

 _How did I get here?_ she thought to herself as she swiveled her antsy gaze between him and Steve, no longer caring who set up who or why as she became crippled with a surreal haze of guilt, outrage, and confusion. And the surging dizziness that gripped her just by looking at them became a little too mind-warping to deal with. Without a word, she dejectedly retreated from this nightmare and made a hasty and embarrassed escape up the staircase.

 _…Mission accomplished!_ Myra felt satisfied to the bone as she watched Laura take that lovely slap to the face like the piñata she was. And she shot Stefan a devilish wink and a thumbs-up while Steve's back was turned, who was desperately debating with himself whether he should chase after Laura or chase his ex out of the door with a broom.

Stefan's composure began visibly coming apart at the seams and he rolled his eyes as Myra signaled their 'victory' to him… was she serious? He couldn't find one successful thing about the way this lunacy just unfolded. More than that, he couldn't believe that he willingly allowed himself to be manipulated by her manic puppet strings. His jaw stiffened as he patience crumbled, and he couldn't care less if their charade crumbled with it.

"…Really? _That_ was the plan?" he seethed with a sarcastic chuckle, planting his hands firmly on his hips. He just shook his head ruefully, murmuring to himself in regret of ignoring his intuition, "Heh, that's clever, Myra. I knew I should've brought a priest with me…" As far as he was concerned, all of them needed an exorcism at this point.

… _What plan?_ Completely forlorn and distracted by the whirlwind of drama, it wasn't until Stefan spoke that Steve even realized he was standing there… which threw him for a loop immediately as his gaze suspiciously swiveled over to him, several curious questions coming to mind. Namely, what the heck was _he_ doing here and why would he say _that?_

"Oh, pipe down, model boy. Everything's just fine now!" Myra insisted sweetly, clasping her hands in front of her like a devil-horned angel, the glow of her innocent halo dimmed by a cheeky and shameless whisper to Stefan, " _Juuuust_ the way it's supposed to be… _remember?_ " A whisper that definitely didn't make it past Steve since she seemed to forget — or, perhaps, not care — that he was standing right there.

 _GAAAAAAAAASSSSSPPP!_ Steve wheezed so loud that Stefan and Myra flinched out of their blatantly indiscrete exchange to peer over at him in time to see him gaping in wide-eyed fury, demolished by the conclusion their words brought him to. Frenzied with outrage, he waved an accusing finger between the two of them as he turned to Stefan, "You mean to tell me that you and the String Cheese Fatale over here planned this?!"

…Who did he think he was pointing that finger at? Stefan just hooked a brow at him, not even a little intimidated by the accusation. "Don't look at me, man, this was all _her_ idea," he clarified as he nodded towards Myra… not that he felt obligated to explain himself, but he figured he'd give Steve a chance to realize who he was talking to before he qualified for a can of whoop-ass.

"But you knew to walk Laura into this softcore polka trap, didn't you?! _Incorrigible!_ There are cockroaches at the bottom of the ocean that can't even stoop that low!" Steve rambled, becoming flustered as he slid all the way down to the end of his own rope. He expected this type of treachery from Myra, but to know that Stefan had been her accomplice was deplorable. He was more than a little offended by it, impulsively stepping to Stefan to scold him tightly, "I hope you're proud of yourself!"

Stefan just sized him up with soul-withering glare and stiffened like a cobra ready to strike as his hands curled into fists at his sides. Did this woman-stealing buster just try to challenge him? "Hey, back up outta my face before I stomp _you_ that low, four-eyes," he belittled him with a snarl, the sleeping savage within him briefly flaring up as he launched a vicious shove against Steve's chest.

Steve barely weighed a buck-fifty when he was dripping wet and the startling force of the shove had him staggering backward with a yelp of surprise… once again reminded why he needed to work out more. Myra was behind him and she was vigilant in making sure her honey stayed on his feet, rushing up to catch him before he could fly off-balance.

Once she helped him steady himself, she clutched his waist possessively with both arms, quickly ducked under his arm, and poked her head through his armpit to sneer at Stefan like the true ride-or-die Urkel fan-girl she was, "You watch your paws, you yuppie lug!"

…Stefan felt better already, satisfied that he got a bit of that aggression out of his system. " _Pfft_ , whatever," he scoffed dismissively, clenching his jaw as he fought against the adrenaline stoking the fires of his building temper. He took a deep breath through his nostrils to calm himself, craning his head to work out the stiffness in his neck.

Steve may have been thankful for being caught… but he wasn't thankful for who caught him. And when it dawned on him that his savior was none other than his ruthless stalker, he scrambled to frantically untangle himself from Myra's vice grip of a bear hug and skittering across the room to create as much distance between them as possible.

Myra wasn't fazed by Steve's downright disgusted reaction to being anywhere near her. In fact, she made sure to tighten her grip on his waist to make it difficult for him to escape. But when he managed to get away, she just batted her eyes as him sweetly from the across the room, tapping her fingertips to her lips and blowing him a kiss to him for good measure.

…Which only caused Steve shudder like he was covered with bugs. So many mixed emotions. So many feels. He needed a shower.

 _Yeah, a love shower!_ Myra just winked at him as if silently promising to take care of that for him later. Then, overflowing with her typical rotten sweetness, she turned to Stefan to check his attitude…in the sugariest of the ways, of course, "Why are you being such a fussy-face all of a sudden? This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

…This chick really _was_ insane. Stefan just gave her a deadpan stare. He had heard all of the rumors but after seeing her crazed Urkel-mania for himself, he was more than convinced that her obsession was detrimental to world peace. "Why would I wanna hurt her feelings like that?" he seethed at her sternly, "That's how _you_ roll, Myra, not me!"

But when he heard himself say that, he felt baffled by the insanity planted in his own mind… and he deflated in disappointment in himself because now he felt like the biggest hypocrite in the room. Here he was branding her as the nutty one when he knew that love had turned him into a complete maniac. Took one to know one, he supposed. "…Who am I kidding? I rolled _with_ it. I guess that means I'm even crazier than you are," he conceded glumly and just shook his head, turning his back on this sucker set and marching towards the staircase to follow after Laura.

 _Gosh, what a baby._ Myra rolled her eyes indignantly as it became very clear to her why this uninteresting dolt and his lap-dog were meant for each other. "Oh, un-wad your boxers, already —"

"Shut up, Myra. And stay away from me," Stefan growled as he ascended the stairs two at a time and disappeared on the second story, fuming with the calm fury of a bomb on the brink of explosion. And he wasn't the only one.

"I SECOND THAT MOTION! Again, _and again!"_ Steve's shrill voice erupted out of nowhere as he boiled over with frustration, causing Myra to flinch in surprise at his outburst. "That's it, Myra! I've had it up to my _eyeballs_ with you!" he fumed with an angry scowl, wiping his mouth over and over with the back of his hand, determined to forever decontaminate himself of this woman's tainted evil.

Of course, his impassioned display of revulsion had only one effect on Myra: instant arousal. And she puckered her lips to blow him another air kiss and a wink… because he was more on point with that statement than he realized. She practically had his 'eyeballs' right in the bedroom vanity and it was so wickedly exciting to know that he was clueless about that.

"Oh, if _oooonly_ you knew…" she mused with a guttural purr, innocently twirling a tendril of her hair as she grinned at him impishly. And the more she batted her long lashes at him, the more he felt compelled to shake off the sin he still felt crawling all over him.

He began grinding his teeth in annoyance… an emotion that is hard to trigger in a guy who was considered the most annoying person in the city. He didn't know what she was talking about… and he didn't care. What he did know was that he was tired of being toyed with like a voodoo doll. More than that, he was pretty tired of her not getting the dang hint.

No more Mr. Nice Urkel. Stiffening with aggravated resolve, he dauntlessly stalked towards her to lay down the law once and for all, glaring daggers through her head as he reprimanded her, "When is the madness gonna end?! You're only torturing yourself and wasting _everyone's_ time thinking we're ever gonna get back together! Stumble upon some humility for once in your life, woman!"

"…So, when should we get married?!" Myra chirped as she stared at him lovingly, swooning over every irate syllable he spoke… even though she chose not to hear a word he said.

 _Grrr_ … okay, maybe he needed to be a little harsher. Curling his top lip, he snarled begrudgingly through gritted teeth, "I wouldn't marry _you_ if you dug my grave and buried me alive at the alter!"

 _Oops_ … while those acerbic words accurately colored his blooming disgust, he regretted them the moment he said it because he was helping her write the manual on how to keep him bagged. Literally. And by the way Myra's eyes became stormy with inspiration, he found it necessary to add firmly, "…And don't you dare get any ideas!"

Unfortunately, it seemed to be Steve that wasn't getting the hint. Chiding her was useless because the more irritated he became, the more she squirmed with desire. He was just so delicious to her when he was angry and she was compelled to provoke him even more if it meant kindling her flames a little longer. She just apathetically disregarded his rant and attempted to reach out for his hand. "Oh, Stevie, listen —"

"NO! _You_ listen and you listen _good_ , you siren of Satan!" he barked at her sharply as he snatched his hand out of range of her grip, shoving an admonishing finger in her face to firmly mark his words, "I'm in love with Laura Winslow! My heart has _always_ belonged to her and it always will!" And that's when he shoved that same finger over her shoulder to point her in the direction of next stop on her way to Hell: the front door. "So, about-face and take a long polka off a short pier! Be gone! _Vamoose!_ I told you — _it's over!_ And don't ever count on it being _under_ again! _"_

…Oh, he didn't mean that. _Of course he didn't_. Besides, Myra knew the drill. He would rant and rave for a little while and end up right back on her doorstep when Laura kicked him to the curb, just like he always did. He'd come to his senses one day. In her mind, they would be like peas and carrots again in no time. And if not, she'd just cook up another batch of deception until he was hers forever.

But enough of all of this disharmony. She'd rather be licking him all over right now. " _…_ Wanna go get some ice cream…?!" she blurted with a hopeful grin after the beat of silence it took to allow his bitter words to sink in… and pass right through her like they were never said.

…Steve just irritably snatched off his glasses and let them dangle from his neck strap, taking both hands and slowly clawing at his grimacing face as if he wanted to snatch his skin right off of his skull. _"Grrr-rrrr….!"_ he snarled, straining and shuddering with the frustration of a rumbling volcano. He needed to scream. He needed to scream _right now_ …

* * *

Try as he might to stay true to his anger with his fickle girlfriend, Stefan couldn't help but be steeped in concern for her as he crossed the corridor towards her bedroom door. She seemed hurt by what she just saw and even though he knew that had she brought it onto herself, his heart remained in a conflicted space of wanting to make sure she was okay. He couldn't leave without checking on her. And that made him feel even more pathetic. But he did it anyway… even if he couldn't understand why anymore.

" _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"_

 _Blink!_ He flinched as a shrill, earsplitting scream echoed through the house and stopped him mid-stride, briefly turning in the direction of the shriek. When he faced the staircase, he realized that must've been the sound of Myra eating Steve alive. Good. He hoped it was as painful as it sounded.

Shaking his head pitifully, he pivoted back towards her door and stepped up closer to it… and for a long time, all he could do was stare at it, trying to find one good reason why he should even bother. A stronger man would have never put up with this type of disrespect. The worst part was that he knew she would always be his weakness because loving her was literally ingrained in his DNA. It so was friggin' inconvenient and very damaging to his ego.

 _Sigh._ Oh, well. He had nowhere to go from rock bottom but up. At least he would be able to live with himself knowing that he had tried. He'd tried everything. And he was running out of options.

"Laura...? You okay?" he called tenderly through the door, only to get silence in return … which led him to wonder if treading softly was even worth it anymore. He wanted to uproot his dormant rage, which felt justified at this point, but all he could really do was hope that damage control could clean up the huge mess they made and roll downhill from there. Landing a few gentle knocks, he spoke a little firmer, "Can we just talk about this?"

"…Go home, Stefan," Laura's voice finally responded in a murmur loud enough to be heard through the barrier. And she sounded completely exhausted, certainly in no mood to carry out another pointless emotional match that would only lead to another stalemate. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Oh, there's plenty to talk about. Let's start with the fact that you were gonna go on a date with Steve behind my back," he retorted tightly as he got more and more annoyed with her stubbornness. She was nuts if she thought she was just going to ignore him again and he insisted on pointing out the reason it came to this in the first place before she could dodge the issue. "If I had gone out with someone else, you would have decapitated them with your bare hands — you're lucky Steve isn't in pieces right now."

That's when the door swung open, revealing a misty-eyed Laura fuming in the doorway, her cheeks red with trails of dried tears as she glared at him with defeated rancor. "Oh, really?! Was I 'lucky' to have walked in on _that_ in a _timely fashion,_ too?!" she seethed at him accusingly. She didn't know what was more infuriating, the fact that he pulled another stunt on her or the fact that he tossed away a whole watch just to keep her from catching on.

The last few hours felt like a huge, wasteful lie. It was disappointing to know that the entire evening had been a ruse, including the deconstructed illusion that they finally reconnected as a couple. And the fact that he had become Myra's plaything right along with Steve was just a sign that the trust between all of them had completely disintegrated. "She told you when to bring me home, didn't she?! Did you really think running to that slimy little ferret for backup was smart?!"

…Hold up, was she seriously trying to blame this on him? Stefan glowered at her in disbelief as he stiffened with fury all over again. He didn't know what pissed him off more, the fact that he'd willingly jumped face-first into this rathole… or the fact that he had allowed it to even go this far in the first place. He recognized that he had officially become a perpetrator of the confusion… but that didn't mean he'd been the cause of it.

"What was I _supposed_ to do?!" he barked at her impatiently, "How do you think I felt hearing something like that from _her?!_ I didn't have a choice but to see for myself because you wouldn't have told me about him! I got the truth out of it, didn't I?!"

…Laura just huffed a heavy sigh in surrender, internally condemning Myra to every layer of Hell there ever was. There was no telling how she found out about it and there certainly was no use trying to figure it out, especially not while suffocating on her helpless frustration.

Her guilty silence was all the confirmation that Stefan needed there was probable cause for his actions, no matter how reckless they had become. What he still couldn't make sense of was _her_ actions. Why was she so affected by the sight of Steve with another woman? Why did she care so much if her feelings hadn't crossed a point of no return? Why the hell couldn't she make up her mind?

"…But not the whole truth," he added evenly, instantly humbled by the agony mangling his spirit as he choked on the wretched words that framed the bigger picture, "You've fallen in love with him, is that it?"

She didn't wanna say _that_. It was a possibility still too frightening to even call it… _that_. But she knew she wasn't too fond of him right now for asking her that question, squirming uneasily and winding her arms around her midriff as if to protect herself from her own feelings. "Pfft… _no…!_ " she scoffed irritably, shamefully averting her gaze to keep from facing the cynical suspicion in his eyes.

Her obvious discomfort just hearing the words told the full story. And he couldn't possibly felt more betrayed by the speculation… his heart sank to the core of the earth. "What are we doing?" he brooded, sulking in an outpouring of regret, "Do you realize that I can have any woman I want? They throw themselves at my feet every single day. And here I am, still wanting _you_ , being faithful to _you_ , even though you continue to play me for a fool… for what?"

He just stared at her despondently, lamenting the fact that he didn't even know her anymore. But he knew that he was tired of being her fool. He needed straight answers and he needed them _tonight_. "Just… tell me the truth," he beseeched her calmly, poising himself as if to prepare himself for the backlash of waking a sleeping giant. "Who do you want, Laura? Him or me?"

…She began to suffocate on the miserable tension thickening the air as he turned the pressure up, forcing her to confront this nightmare once and for all. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. And she just couldn't stop crying no matter how many times she scrambled to wipe up after her tears. They just kept on falling like the waterfall of sorrow and hopelessness that splashed over her, soaking her to bone. All the love in the world wasn't worth these many migraines.

And then, just like that, after months of straddling the fence, the solution was blanketed upon her like a blessing in disguise… along with the strength that she needed to finally utter the words that would free them both from love's unforgiving shackles. "…I can't do this anymore, Stefan…" she wept softly behind the shroud of her hand covering her face, shaking her head as her temples throbbed ruthlessly.

… _For real?_ Stefan's face contorted into a flabbergasted scowl instantly… it wasn't until she finally said those words that he realized how much his own denial had been keeping him blind. No matter how close to the edge they had come as a couple, he had never let go of the hope that they could overcome the trials. The shock of being proven wrong was so astonishing that he felt like someone had just dropped a house on him, leaving him breathless with disbelief. "What…?"

What Laura found disturbing was that all of the weight she'd been carrying rolled right off of her shoulders the moment she said it… a weight that she had willingly carried to keep him happy. But it wasn't working, and she wasn't strong enough to lug around these bricks anymore. He wanted the truth. He deserved the truth. So she fearlessly laid it all out on the table.

"Do you really wanna know why I'm attracted to him?" she asked bluntly, her voice breaking as she finally pulled her puffy face from behind her hands, "You wanna know why I kissed him _again_ not too long ago?"

"…You, _what?!_ " Stefan yelped in surprise as his scowl deepened, jarred by the blow of confirming his suspicions that they were more than 'friendly' while his back was turned.

But Laura didn't pay his slighted reaction much mind. Not the way she usually would. It destroyed her to see him so hurt, but she knew that his pain would only get worse once he understood her motives. They had wasted enough time tormenting each other and it was time to clear the fog.

"Because through of all this confusion, as hard as it's been, whenever he's around me… I can't stop smiling," she conceded sullenly, defeated by the months-long boxing match she had with her denial. "He's the only person in my life that I feel safe to be myself with because he loves me as I am, not this glamorized idea of who I should be," she admitted with the humility of woman without an ounce of fight left in her. "I _need_ that, Stefan. The truth is that I haven't felt like that with you in a really long time."

…Stefan couldn't believe his ears. And every word knocked him down peg after peg until he felt lower than a worm, staring at her with baffled angst. "…W-what are you talking about?" he stuttered nervously, gripped by a sense of impending doom, like he was seconds away from an execution.

His worst nightmare was realizing itself right here, right now. But impressively enough, he kept it together… at least, long enough to allow him to try to figure out where he went wrong. "I've always tried to make you feel safe… I've loved you despite your flaws…"

"I know you have, I'm not blaming you," she reassured him evenly, sniffling as she struggled to dry her eyes. Her shields went up as she tried to find some semblance of composure, unable to endure the look of defeat in his face as he made his heart-wrenching appeal. "But I'm not the same girl you fell in love with," she said solemnly, swallowing the lump of sorrow that welled in her throat as Stefan stared at her fearfully, stunned into silence.

Her voice wavered as she desperately tried to seal the judgment before she chickened out, "And it's _my_ fault because I'm still trying to be that person. With Steve… I never had to be. It's obvious that we can't trust each other anymore. So, maybe it's just time to let go… and maybe that's okay," she yielded, her spine bracing with fortitude as she owned her words, accepting the reality of them for the first time since this madness began.

… _What was she saying?!_ Of course it wasn't okay! It would never be okay in his book. It was astounding to realize just how oblivious he'd been to the depths of her confusion… and just how instrumental he'd been in his own undoing. Never before had he felt so utterly useless. She was slipping right through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it.

And so, his first impulse was to try. The trigger was ingrained in his bones at this point and he couldn't help but attempt to reach out for her hand, determined to implore her until he was blue in the face, "But, Laura —"

"Please don't touch me…" she muttered callously as she retreated out of his range with a few steps back into her bedroom, clutching the door as if preparing to close it on this long, exhausting chapter of her life. But she didn't tear her eyes away from his bewildered stare… this time, she felt that she deserved to feel the burn of guilt induced by the stupefied look in his eyes and she absorbed every uncomfortable second of his suffering.

She wanted to kill herself for doing this to him. But it was because she cared too much about him that she had to. It was even harder than she imagined it would be but she forgave herself for not finding the courage to do it sooner. Now that they were here, meeting the end of the road, the only way she knew how to make it easier was to get icy.

Finally getting a grip on her tears, her jaw stiffened with determination, hindering the overflow of emotions long enough to feign apathy. It wasn't easy but it was convincing. "Look, it was never my intention to let things get so out of hand. It's just… I've been trying so hard to be right for you. But it shouldn't be _this_ hard. To be honest with you… I don't know if it was ever easy."

…But Stefan wasn't convinced. There's no way she was serious. And he went from crumbling with dread to assuring himself that this was all just a horrible dream, shaking his head as he adamantly rejected that claim, "C'mon, you don't mean that —"

"But I wouldn't worry if I were you," she interjected with a shrug, unyielding against his denial as she sardonically echoed his words back at him, "You can have any woman you want, so… you should probably reserve that ticket to Italy for one of the buzzards on your waiting list." She was almost positive that there were plenty of them to choose from zeroing in on his coordinates right now… and that just pissed her off all over again as her jealousy was kick-started by the very thought of him moving on.

But the days of holding him back were over… _or_ Steve, for that matter, since he seemed determined to let Myra puppeteer him to his grave. It no longer mattered because she was done discussing it. She had a lot of sobbing herself to sleep to do. Without another word, she slowly shut the door before he could do or say anything to change her mind.

Stefan just stood there dumbfounded as the door closed in his face, his hollow gaze desperately searching for his purpose somewhere in the cracks of the painted wood. He forgot to breathe. For a moment, he feared he was suffocating. But all he could do was let the last few agonizing minutes sink through his flesh layer by layer until the reality of what just happened stung the very core of his soul… did she just do what he thought she did? Did she really just… pick _Steve_ over him?

… _Aw, hell no! ..._ He wasn't going out like that. Not in a million years. And he began to vibrate in a frenzy of bitterness all over again. As if his resolve had been sparked back to life by jumper cables, he began to pound a fist on her door like a barking mad dog. "Laura!" he shouted furiously, completely bereft of his classically suave composure, which had been thrown right out of the window along with his patience. He got no response, of course… but damn that. He pounded harder and snarled a little deeper, "Laura, don't do this! Open the —!"

" _I'm comin', sweetums!"_ Steve's nasally voice suddenly pitched up the staircase in a panicked echo, followed by the sound of rushing footfalls as he sprinted up the stairs, throwing Stefan completely off focus as his enraged petition for his woman's heart was rudely interrupted. He froze mid-pound with a puzzled knit of his brows, tossing a glimpse over his shoulder at Steve just as he cleared the top step and dashed for Laura's door.

Getting Myra out of the house had been quite the feat for him but he eventually found the perfect solution. Being straightforward with her didn't work, so he used her cunning manipulation against her. All he had to do was agree to go get ice cream with her and then slam the door right as she walked out of the house. _Keeping_ her out was going to be the hard part and he made a mental note to change the house locks himself if it meant making everyone's life easier.

But right now, he was on a mission. He had to make amends with his lady love. As far he as was concerned, Stefan may as well have been invisible because he was the least of his worries, impetuously flanking the open space next to him so that he could land a few knocks of his own. "Turtledove, are you in there?!"

"Go away! Both of you!" Laura's muffled voice yelled through the barrier in response to the clamor she heard outside of her door.

In his knocking frenzy, Steve was incognizant of the fact that he accidentally nudged Stefan aside when they bumped shoulders… he was also ignorant of the searing glare Stefan shot him when he was forced to stagger sideways by the collision, his entire aura swelling like the funnel of a tornado as his irritation was provoked by the very sight of him.

It was never a bright idea to awaken a dormant beast. But that's exactly what Steve did the moment he impeded on a personal moment that was already bubbling over with distress. Laura may have been the one who set this travesty in motion… but as far as Stefan was concerned, the _real_ cause to all of his problems was right in front of him. And he'd been dying to take out his frustrations on the one he felt deserved it the most.

"But you weren't supposed to see that, angel lips! Just hear me out!" Steve pleaded to the door, hoping Laura wasn't beyond reason. Unfortunately, she was the last one he should have been pleading with.

…' _Angel lips'?_ Okay, that's it. Steve was so distracted with trying to draw Laura out of her shell that he didn't even notice Stefan strutting away from him and the door to pensively pace towards the opposite wall in what looked like submissive defeat… but _nah_. Instead, he started to undress like a prince in a parlor.

Stefan calmly removed his coat and his tie, neatly folding them and draping them on a nearby end-table. Then he unbuttoned his vest, along with the cufflinks at his wrists, and rolled up his sleeves like he was about to get his hands dirty. He had to take out the trash and he refused to mess up his clothes.

Thumbing his nose and turning to face his counterpart, he watched him beseech _his_ woman with absolutely no regard for his presence. He glared at the back of Steve's head like he wanted to singe the hairs right off his skull. And the longer he watched, the hotter his flesh burned, his tolerance sizzling away completely.

Steve was blissfully unaware of his impending homicide, now crowding the whole door as his fuming creation slowly stalked up behind him. " _Pleeeeease_ , babycakes? Just let me —" But before he could process what was happening, his plea was cut short as he suddenly felt a hand grab his collar and violently yank him away from the door. _"Waaaaaah!"_ he cried out in shock as the floor shifted beneath him and he stumbled backward until he collided with the wall behind him, wincing when his back muscles spasmed against the impact.

 _Um… ow?_ _That_ was rude. And for the split second that Steve was blinded by the painful haze that consumed him, he was suspicious that a poltergeist had haunted the house… that is, until he peered up to see Stefan standing over him, fist-clenched and fuming like a raging bull ready to charge. Smoke might as well have been spewing from his nostrils.

But Steve wasn't as intimidated as he was agitated. If anything, being flung around like a rag doll only served to grind his gears even more because it was pretty uncalled for. "Heeeey! Where'd _you_ come from, you big brute?!" he snarled at Stefan with a grimace, clawing at his shoulder as the ache creeping up his back spread to his neck muscles. "All you had to do was tap me on the shoulder; there's no need to get grabby!"

Steve didn't know it yet, but Stefan had already begun the countdown to his demise, towering over his prey to give notice that the clock was ticking. " _Step off, Urkel._ Before I shove my foot up your narrow ass," he warned with a low growl, closing in on him like a panther ready to pounce.

As Steve recovered from his disorientation, he considered the odds of that threat and knew that the probability was very high. But Stefan was the barrier between him and his lady love, which meant fear would never be a factor when it came to fighting for her. "You wouldn't kick my butt even if I sat on your Oxfords!" he challenged, indignantly shoving a finger into his chest, "Move aside, _bub!_ _You're_ the slimy limey who pulled this preposterous prank to begin with and I have a right to explain myself!"

… _Oh, no he didn't._ Stefan just frowned as he slowly glanced down to the spot on his chest where he was poked, a pulsing vein surfacing on his forehead and branching across his temple, his eyes darkening with malice as he stepped in Steve's face. "Oh, you think so, featherweight?" he taunted with an eerie smirk.

" _I know soooo_ , lame-brain!" Steve spat at him bitterly, emboldened by every intimidation tactic thrown his way. He was getting tired of Stefan's bad manners, and he didn't care how many threats he flagrantly tossed around. But he probably should have thought it through...

…Because that's when Stefan lost it. He lost _all of it_. All of his cool, his luster, his glitz, his pretty boy swag, and his nonviolent reputation. It all vanished. And all that remained was unbridled, barbaric testosterone in a suit. The built-up acrimony for his creator collapsed in on itself like a tiny black hole in the center of his mind and in the blink of an eye, he reared back a curled fist and launched it towards Steve's face faster than greased lightning.

 _"Oooof!"_ Steve's vision exploded in a flash of white light as the taste was knocked out of his mouth, whiplashed when sharp knuckles clipped the side of his jaw, snapping his head to the side so hard that his glasses flew off his face. He stumbled into the wall behind him again and rolled against it for support as his balance faltered, desperately trying to stay on his feet. Briefly concussed, his world went blurry as he was overcome with vertigo.

"Explain _that_ , genius," Stefan snarled disparagingly as he vibrated with the feral ire of a scorned alpha male, agitated even more by the aches now pulsing in his hand. _Damn_. He couldn't help but stare at his fist with a perplexed scowl, realizing Steve's skull was harder than he thought it would be. But he simply flexed his fingers for some relief… because he wasn't done getting his licks in. Glaring back at Steve, his temper was only riled by the satisfying sight of his victim teetering and swaying off balance.

"And while you're at it…" he began with a stormy calmness in his voice that contradicted his aggression as he grabbed Steve by the collar again and viciously pinned him up against the wall. "Care to _explain_ why you've been kissing my girl when I told you to stay away from her?! _Huh?!_ " he roared in his face before punch number two was thrust into Steve's gut with the speed and force of an express train.

"Wait — _ohhh!_ " Steve tried to protest, his plea cut off by the powerful fist-to-sternum impact that was so astonishing, it felt like his lungs popped. Too breathless to even scream as his body went limp, he slid down the wall and dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. "… _Owww_ … _!_ " he strained, his chest burning with every panting breath he struggled to take.

… _What the heck is that noise?_ Laura had long drowned out their pleas behind the door with her Walkman, hiding under the covers of her bed with her music turned up full tilt. But even with the volume maximized, she could still hear muffled shouting seeping through her bedroom door. At first, she assumed that they were still trying to get her attention. But then the walls of her room began to tremor, and the commotion started to sound more like… an altercation?

Peeking from underneath the comforter, she snatched off her headphones to make sure her imagination wasn't betraying her as she stared at the door skeptically, flinching when the floor beneath her shuddered under the impact of a slam. And soon enough, the sound of Steve's harrowing cries became more pronounced… and more concerning.

… _Oh, no._ Her eyes widened in horror as she scrambled from the bed and made a mad dash for the door, snatching it open just in time to behold the deeply disturbing sight of Steve squirming helplessly on the floor with Stefan hovering over him like an angry predator. A chill of distress shot up her spine as her body went cold with dread, shrieking in a panic, "…NO! _Stop!"_

"I warned you, didn't I?!" Stefan barked between gritted teeth before connecting a kick to Steve's gut, having tuned out the world around him in his blind rage and completely unresponsive to Laura's cries to desist.

"Ahhh…!" Steve cried out, followed by a few chesty coughs, defenseless against the hard shoe that knocked the breath out of his lungs… and he curled into a fetal position with a grimace of pain twisting his expression and writhed in agony, slowly winding an arm around his busted gut.

He not only looked like a worm, but he felt like one. He was eight years old all over again, instantly regressing back into the many memories in his childhood of being broken down over and over again until he was motionless and weak. But this time, it wasn't a random bully in his school, or even his parents inflicting the pain… he had to contend against the monster inside of his own creation. He felt like it was his own fault for not heeding the warnings that came in from every angle. Knowing what Stefan was capable of, all he could do was breathe through the pain and hope it would be over soon.

Luckily, it was over the moment Laura launched into action. When she noticed that Stefan chose not to hear her, she rushed up to him in a furious frenzy and grabbed his arm just as he was rearing back for another kick, yanking at him with all her strength. "Stop it, Stefan! _Get off him!"_ she hollered as she managed to haul him out of range of Steve, preventing him from striking him again. But he was hot-headed and fully revved up, automatically resisting her pulls so that he could launch another attack. As a result, her first impulse was to smack some damn sense into him, swiftly lashing a hand across his cheek. _Hard_.

And it did the trick. Stefan blinked out of his rampage as if reset by an electric shock, her admonishing slap taming the beast instantly. When he peered at Laura, he looked like a deer in headlights. His pupils dilated as he flinched out of hulk-mode, staggering backward as he held his reddened cheek, panting through the adrenaline rush left in the wake of his fury. And Steve became an afterthought as the woman he loved came into his awareness… along with the disarming realization that he lost his cool in front of her. He regretted it immediately.

… _That's what she thought._ Laura glowered at him in disgust, daring him to move another muscle. As much as she wanted to unleash on him in her own fit of rage, she was more concerned over whether or not she needed to call 911, disregarding Stefan to kneel by Steve's side and protectively cradle his shoulders with her arms. "Steve, are you okay?!"

Steve was a trooper. An experienced one, at that. He'd been through worse. But he still couldn't get used to the dizziness that always followed a good beat-down. "… _Ohhhh_ … I will be when the lights turn back on…" he slurred as he absorbed the pain long enough to make a dizzying attempt to sit up, shaking his head to try to realign his vision… to no avail considering that he didn't have his glasses. Heaving a few coughs as he caught his breath, he languidly felt around on the floor for them.

When Laura saw him sit up on his own, she sighed heavily with relief that he hadn't been severely hurt. Even so, she couldn't help but inspect him for injuries and when she found nothing major… she got _pissed_.

Standing to her feet, stunned and bewildered, she spun towards Stefan with the blazes of disappointment in her eyes and angrily unleashed on him with a few closed-fists swats at his arm as she berated him fiercely, " _God_ , I can't believe you did that! What is the matter with you?!"

' _What was the matter with him'?_ Wasn't it obvious? Stefan felt insulted that she even speculated why he erupted considering that she just threw away a three-year relationship... which also happened to span his entire life experience. If she thought he was going to take it well, she thought wrong. She should be glad his phasers were on stun. "Take a wild guess!" he barked back sarcastically as he recoiled from her swinging fists, still holding his cheek as the wrath and shock in his blood began to thin out.

Laura couldn't even stand the sight of him anymore…which was very upsetting when she thought about how worried she was about Steve, his genetic twin. Averting her gaze as her own cauldron of emotions reached a boiling point, lowering her clenched fists to her sides as she instructed him on what to do next. At this point, it was the only way to wake up from this sad excuse for a dream come true. "Just… GET OUT, Stefan! And don't come back!" she seethed at him viciously, taut with resentment in a way that _finally_ made it easy to watch him leave.

Stefan wasn't as surprised as he thought he would be as she sentenced him to exile. It was to be expected since he knew how she felt about violence. More than that, she made herself clear months ago what her decision would be. The most frustrating part about it was that it took him completely stepping out of his character for him to discern it.

And he stared at her wondering if loving her this hard was ever worth it… but it was futile pondering when he submitted to the fact that she was the only reason he existed in the first place. Of course it was worth it. True to his weakness, there was nothing left to do but humbly fulfill her request, grumbling bitterly in reply, "… _Whatever makes you happy.._."

As if his suave gauge had been magically replenished, he calmly ripped his coat and tie from the end table and retreated down the hall to descend the stairs to the first floor, dismissively storming a path out of the front door. And he didn't look back.

…So, _this_ was what her mother was talking about. As many times as it was drilled into her head not to play with their hearts, it never once crossed Laura's mind that these two would spiral into violence and the rude awakening was quite disorienting.

As she sullenly watched the man she still ached for take the walk of shame, she reflected on her mother's words and realized that she _was_ reckless and naive. And she definitely blamed herself for allowing Steve to be victimized. _Again_. But she was glad it was over. As many tears as she was sure to shed later on down the line, at least she could hope that sleeping at night would become easier. Eventually.

The room was spinning and Steve felt like an open wound… but he was just glad he survived. Finally feeling the steel frames of his glasses meshed into the carpet, he grabbed them and shakily placed them back on his face, still buzzing with a sense of dread. Miraculously, they weren't damaged and his vision sharped in time to see Laura rushing back to his side as he struggled to peel himself off of the floor.

"C'mon… get up, Steve…" she whispered to him compassionately as she kneeled next to him, gently encircling his shoulders with her arms to help him sit upright… that was when she noticed him tonguing the corner of his mouth, shriveling with concern as she spotted a bright red streak staining his chin. "Oh, my God — you're bleeding!" she gasped softly, reaching out to affectionately cup his face in her hands and inspect his injury.

"… _Ow_ …no-no, it's nothing..." he wheezed, cringing as a wave of discomfort gripped him the moment her hands landed on his aching jaw, which he withdrew from as he leaned out of her reach. "Just a tiny little scratch… really, I'm fine..." he insisted skittishly as he wiped his chin on the back of his hand, surmising that he'd accidently bit his lip when he was sucker-punched. That was gonna hurt in the morning.

All he wanted to do at this point was curl into the carpet and fall asleep right there on the floor, but he eventually took control of his aching body and started irritably shrugging out of her embrace... which surprised even him because he was usually elated to be her arms. But at the moment, he felt worthless and unclean.

Being aware of his abusive past only sealed Laura's resolve to make this disaster up to him one day. After years of allowing him to be subjected to cruelty, sometimes by her own hand, she refused to let him be taken advantage of anymore. She felt obligated to protect him. And she couldn't help but try to coddle and console him as the spot in her heart for him pulsed with a familiar tenderness. Even as he insisted on pulling away, she tried again to reach out to him, "Here, let me help you —"

"Get your hands off me, _I said I'm fine!_ " Steve shouted harshly with an agitated flinch, a spark of his own temper finally flaring as the last few chaotic moments replayed in his head, loathsome of the fact that he let himself look so vulnerable in front of her. After being pounded on like a piece of marinated meat, he just didn't want to be touched right now.

…And his rankled reaction was the last thing Laura was expecting. He was the most level-headed person that she knew and she couldn't remember the last time she saw him this upset. Not only that, he was usually drawn to her like a moth to a flame and for once, she was the one being pushed away. But he had every reason to. The more she recognized the depth of his pain, the more responsible she felt for putting him in this position.

Stunned into silence by his vicious sneer, she meekly and helplessly shrunk into herself and withdrew her hands from him. All she could do was watch as he scrambled to his feet in an unnerved frenzy if only to prove that he could still stand on his own. But she stayed down there on her knees where she felt she deserved to be and looked up at him with doe-eyed shame.

His gut soured with the remorse the moment he sprung to his feet, the impact of his stewing contempt dawning on him as he peered down at her. Seeing how sunken and defeated she looked, he felt doubly disgraced… and just as helpless as she did. Melting with regret as his hazy frustration was sobered by the dried tears staining her cheeks, all he could do was let his heart sink as he pitifully sought for her forgiveness. "…I'm so, _soooo_ sorry, sweetums… I didn't mean that…" he implored her, reaching out to grab her hand and help her up.

She hesitantly took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, where she met him eye-to-eye in timid silence. As much as she ached to hold him and make it all go away, it was the first time she really had no idea where their boundaries lied... she tried to appease his anxiety by giving his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze… but beyond that, she felt utterly useless.

If only she knew just how that one little gesture warmed his heart enough to thaw his agitation. But when it melted off him, he was left with nothing but mortification, too humiliated and embarrassed to even feel worthy enough of her affection. He needed to get the heck outta there before his luck could get any worse. "…I-I think… I think I just need to be alone right now…" he stammered dolefully as the soreness in his gut returned, wincing as he pivoted and briskly limped away.

"Steve…?" she uttered barely above a whisper as he gently ripped his hand out of her grip as he retreated, watching him disappear up the attic steps before she could stop him… and then, she shriveled with grief as her back flattened against the nearest wall, defeated by the outbreak of hysteria that had just gone down.

All she could do was stew in self-loathing as she reflected on how ingrained her intrinsic neglect of him had become. She didn't think to get him some ice or a band aid — something! She felt inclined to beat herself for it, but if he wanted to be left alone, then she had to accept the fact that she dug this hole of emotional isolation all by herself.

Needless to say, she was ready for her gold medal at the Fail Olympics. She foresaw a very long night of Kleenex and ice cream as the waterworks started up again, wetting her face with tears of guilt. At least her parents hadn't come home early this time.

* * *

 _CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 34_


	34. Flaws and All

_**Chapter 34: Flaws and All**_

 _Summary: After analyzing the potholes in their dilemma, Steve and Laura make amends and decide to give their relationship a try… much to Myra's dismay._

* * *

 _ **THE FOLLOWING NIGHT**_

'Screwing the pooch' was a talent Steve employed many times during his twenty years on Earth. But he was convinced that the stars had never been more out of alignment before in his life. His one and only chance to sweep Laura Winslow off her feet had vanished in the blink of a sucker-punch… _and_ a sucker-kiss.

The look on her face when she caught him in throes of Myra's cunning lechery haunted him as his biggest regret to date. To add insult to injury, he also had to stomach the embarrassment of being whupped like a lame mule in front of his lady love — by her own boyfriend, no less — only to reject her in a belligerent frenzy of frustration when she tried to help peel him off the floor. He felt like such a pansy.

Standing before the bathroom mirror in his pajamas, he leaned over the sink to inspect a phantom cut hidden in the crevice of his gums. Peeling down his bottom lip revealed the battle wound carved in his inner lip where he accidentally bit into the sensitive flesh. It was tiny and barely noticeable, but his jaw felt like it was on fire. Leave it to the smallest scars to be the most painful. At least his face hadn't bruised up like a rotten peach. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about his mangled dignity.

In spite of the outrage he should've felt for being battered by Stefan's iron fist, there was an ache of humiliation in his heart that stung far worse. Tonight was the night he and lady love were supposed to be winding down the road to Cupid's Wonderland once and for all. He'd spent the better half of a week tummy-tickled with butterflies whenever he thought about their friendship budding into the picture-perfect romance he always fantasized about. In fact, he was supposed to be ever so lovingly guiding the woman of his dreams into his arms _right now_.

… _But noooo_ … As always, his bone-headed ideas were squandered by a force of bad luck that seemed to follow him closer than his own shadow. It served him right for allowing his heart to blindly guide him into one dead-end after another. Besides, he was willing to bet his entire fossilized bug collection that she would rather eat garbage than go out with him after this monstrosity. Dang it, he just couldn't win.

Dejected and encumbered by his self-loathing, he turned away from his reflection with a defeated shake of his head and dragged himself out of the bathroom with slumped shoulders and a sunken spirit. He sauntered through the corridor towards the staircase that spiraled into the kitchen to fetch a glass of warm milk, hoping it would be the remedy for what he expected to be another sleepless night. Descending the stairs in a contemplative daze, he wistfully mulled over this miraculously destructive force of nature called love.

Laura stood in a daze by the kitchen counter, stirring a spoon into the teacup in front of her, hoping that she could find solace for her dejection somewhere in the steaming amber liquid. If Steve thought he was having a difficult time processing the nightmare that transpired last night, then the buckets of shame she had been drowning herself in were abysmal. Even though she couldn't help but miss Stefan, she was far too pissed at him to care about how he was handling their breakup. It hardly mattered anymore. The only thing she cared about was that her recklessness had caused her best friend to get hurt.

Her chickens had definitely come home to roost in light of her decision to date both of them at the same time. It didn't help that her date with Steve seemed to have gone up in smoke, mainly because every attempt at seeking him out that day was met with failure. She suspected that he stood her up because of the embarrassment she'd caused him. It meant that not only was she now single and dateless on a Saturday night, but she was also fearful that the friendship she valued the most was unsalvageable. In the end, all of her heart-juggling had been for naught.

Steve balked tentatively as he cleared the bottom step into the kitchen, caught off guard by the sight of his lady love as their paths crossed for the first time all day. For a moment, he didn't know whether to flee back upstairs or fall at her feet in a pleading pile of regret. But he did know one thing: she was absolutely breathtaking. Even in her bathrobe, she appeared as angelic as an ice statue.

It seemed that no amount of discord was enough to disrupt the all-consuming awe that afflicted him whenever he laid eyes on her. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to dull the ache of guilt that riddled him from head to toe. "Oh… hi," he greeted her timidly, his entire demeanor raw with ambivalence.

Pulled out of her daze, she caught a brief glimpse of him over her shoulder… and the awkward tension from the previous night returned with a vengeance. It filled the room like a dense fog, so much so that she found it difficult to look at him. "Hey, Steve..." she replied somberly and turned back to her teacup. She really wanted to ask him if he was okay. In fact, there was an overwhelming urge to just reach out and gather him in her arms but the last time she tried that, she was left to simmer in disgrace. She'd never felt this uncertain about what to do or say to him before... it was extremely unsettling.

The elephant in the room had become more bothersome than ever before and Steve wanted nothing more than to unknot the strings of tension tied between them. As disillusioned he was about their rocky road to becoming lovers… he just wanted his friend back first and foremost. Now that she was right in front of him, he was anxious to clear the air. Approaching her, he hesitantly extended the olive branch. "Uh, Laura... can we talk about what happened last night?"

Laura's nerves teetered somewhere between shame and relief that he still wanted to talk to her. Then she remembered that Steve Urkel was unlike any other man she'd ever known. Of course he would try to work things out with her. His loyalty to her had been one of the only consistencies in this entire dilemma. She just wished she could say the same about her loyalty to him. "Sure, Steve," she conceded softly before grabbing the cup and saucer and stepping to the kitchen table to set it down and take a seat in the nearest chair.

Nervously taking off his glasses, he quickly huffed fog onto the lens and wiped them with the sleeve of his robe a few times… little did he know, doing so meant that he was staring directly into his stalker's eyes. But in such a vulnerable moment, it was a blessing in disguise that he was clueless to the fact that they weren't the only witnesses to this delicate conversation.

Placing his glasses back on his face, he regarded her contritely as he delicately explained himself, "Laura...I always thought I was a strong person but when Myra showed up in that… sexy lederhosen…" _Twitch_. For the life of him, he couldn't tame the ants in his pants and his hips jerked as if a string in his back had been tugged. His ex may have been insane but sometimes it felt as if that little minx had a play-by-play manual to all of his triggers. Just reliving the memory was enough to awaken temptation. "...polka music, and-and ...string cheese..." _No, Steve! Be strong, man!_ Shaking off the voodoo, he was finally able to finish his trailing thought, "Well... I just lost all control! I went totally hormonal!"

Laura frowned with confusion as he started twitching again only to soften as she was humbled by the way he brought up his alleged 'betrayal'. She honestly wasn't expecting _that_ to be his main concern. The thing was, she didn't even care that he kissed Myra anymore. Nor did she care that her and Stefan's Pinky-and-the-Hair-Brained scheme imploded in on her. What did she really expect after sending them all through the ringer over and over again?

Then again, he never failed to find a way to blame himself, no matter how far removed he was from being the culprit. But she knew that all of the responsibility rested on her shoulders and she didn't hesitate to absolve him of his guilt. "Well… Steve, I can understand why you would want to be with Myra. I mean, let's face it, she's a very pretty girl." …And that was about all the credit she was going to give her. She was surprised she could actually say it with a straight face.

But in that moment, she realized that had Myra never pulled this stunt in the first place, she may have never been able to interpret the depth of her feelings. In a strange, twisted sort of way... she felt slightly grateful to Myra for inadvertently blessing her with insight. "And I realized something, too. When I saw you kissing Myra, I felt... well, I felt a little jealous," she admitted sheepishly... but there was no shame in her game. It was the honest truth.

"What?" Steve said incredulously, his brows perking in disbelief. Even though he saw her envy plain as day, he never expected her to admit it.

Actually, 'jealous' was an understatement. She never wanted to rip that prissy parasite's head off so bad before. And considering the many opportunities afforded to her thus far, she felt like she deserved an award for her iron-clad composure. "For a moment, I was afraid that you had gone back to Myra forever," she continued pensively, unabashed about her deepening feelings for the first time since they plagued her, "And it made me realize that I wanted to give our relationship a chance."

... _Well, well, well._ He hadn't seen that coming at all. He had gotten pretty used to the constant string of rejection dished to him over a lifetime. Even so, it looked as if this triangle of theirs still had the potential to be rounded out. Every residual ache in his body vanished as a wave of blissful hope washed over him. "S-so you're saying you'll still go out with me?"

Laura couldn't help but break into a smile of relief as his renewed optimism warmed the air between them. "You bet. Next Saturday night," she said as her grin brightened, tickled with anticipation.

Just like that, the storm clouds lifted and the sweet breezes of triumph swept through the kitchen, revitalizing Steve from head to toe. " _...Yesss!"_ he proclaimed with a victorious fist-pump. As far as he was concerned, all was officially forgotten and forgiven. "Saturday Night, it is," he confirmed with a wry smirk of his own.

"I'll be ready," she replied with a sheepish smirk, standing to her feet as their eyes met, succumbing to the tingle of adoration in her gut that was becoming harder and harder to deny. It always amazed her how open he was to new beginnings with her, no matter how far down the beaten path of defeat they wandered. There were a lot of things about him that amazed her and that list seemed to lengthen day by day. By virtue alone, his patience with her deserved a long overdue reward. "And Steve?"

"Yeah?" he asked, having long lost himself in the depths her piercing gaze, hypnotized as her flowery aroma filled his nostrils.

"Here's a sneak preview…" she purred as she slowly leaned into him, electricity sparking the air between them until their lips met in a gentle kiss. The feathery sensation of his lips pressing against hers reminded her of a soft, familiar pillow — warm and inviting. So inviting, in fact, that she could have stayed there all night… but as tempted as she was to slip him the tongue, it was only a _sneak_ preview and she didn't want him to pass out again.

Steve could've melted right there. Fortunately, he was getting better at clinging to his consciousness, even though her lips always had him feeling like he'd been abusing opiates. Stupefied by her affection, a hot flash of pure ecstasy shot through his veins, goosebumps surfacing all over his body. It didn't matter how brief the 'preview' was, there was absolutely nothing in the world as satisfying and soul-soothing as her kisses. There wasn't another set of lips in the world he'd rather be attached to.

"… _Humina-humina_ …" he babbled once their lips parted, slack-jawed with arousal as he stared at her lovingly, heavy-lidded and light-headed. It took a moment to land back on his feet and overcome his dizziness, but when he did, he was more determined than ever to turn Laura Winslow into Mrs. Urkel. "Well, then…in _that_ case…" he crooned with an impish smirk, poised with a sway of pride as he wiggled his brows at her. "I'm lookin' forward to the encore, my luscious little love drop."

"Me too," she replied softly as she caught herself nibbling on her bottom lip if only to keep herself from grinning like an idiot. She'd never been more excited to explore what it would really be like to be on the arm of the sweetest, funniest, most considerate and romantic guy she'd ever known. It almost made her want to beat herself over the head — she couldn't even remember what she had been so afraid of.

...Oh, yeah. _That_. When the cause of her indecisiveness crept back into her mind, her satisfaction was benumbed by the sting of guilt still pulsing in the pit of her stomach. Even though she was overjoyed that they managed to work things out, she still felt like she owed him a huge apology for being so wishy-washy. With a heavy sigh, she gently took his hands in hers and trained her eyes on him again, becoming solemn as she overflowed with sincere, heartfelt remorse. "Listen, about what Stefan did… I'm really sorry about that."

 _Oooh, her hands were so soft._ Steve couldn't help but shudder as he gently gripped them in return, grazing her knuckles with his thumbs. She would never know how a gesture as simple as her touch had the power to make his heart flutter a million beats a second. It was moments like this that made this entire ordeal totally worth it. But why she would blame herself for Stefan's hoodlum behavior was beyond him — he was hardly surprised that the poor bloke finally blew his cap.

"But why, turtledove? I'm perfectly fine!" At least… _now_ he was. It was almost as if her very presence had magical healing powers that made him forget all about his aching jaw and the soreness in his abdominals. The bloodshed she witnessed was hardly worth mentioning but he wanted to assuage her concern. "It looked more brutal than it felt. Besides, I bleed when the wind blows too hard —"

"No, I mean…" she protested with a firm shake of her head, determined to be accountable for her selfishness. Her shoulders sunk as the reality of her role in this madness became even more pronounced the more she stood here with him, relishing the peace she felt just being in his presence. She almost felt unworthy of it. "I told you that I wasn't available when you asked me out but I didn't tell you why. Here I am, jealous over Myra, and it didn't even cross my mind how you would feel that I was with Stefan," she explained with a heavy sigh of regret, "If I'd never gone out with him, none of this would've happened."

… _Gosh, what a gal._ She never failed to find new ways to make him fall even deeper in love with her if that were even possible. She'd been apologizing to him a lot lately and maybe he just wasn't used to it but each time, he felt compelled to relinquish her discomfort. Even if he had blamed her, they both knew from experience that it was impossible for him to stay upset with her for very long.

" _Au contraire,_ babycakes. That steam pipe was bound to burst sooner or later," he reassured her wryly, once again redirecting the spotlight of shame on himself, "The fact is, I was so entranced by the idea that you liked me that… well, I didn't even take heed to the fact that you weren't even on the market. Let's face it, I had it coming." He was just grateful that she didn't see him as a spineless punk for letting Stefan turn him into a punching bag.

But Laura refused to allow him to continue to blame himself for being violated. She wanted to shudder with fury whenever she thought about how instrumental his troubling past had been in his disjointed self-esteem. But things were going to change around here if she had anything to do with it. "Steve, that wasn't your fault," she persisted as her hands earnestly tightened around his, "I don't care how mad he was, he had no right to hit you."

To Steve's dismay, whenever he felt compelled to seethe with vitriol at his counterpart, he was humbled by the realization that the man's rage was justified. As his creator, he knew for a fact that Stefan would have never crossed that line without a reasonable doubt. No amount of delusion could've shielded him from the reality that the man would never be wrong for trying to save his own relationship, clone or no clone.

"But, Laura, he had _every_ right!" he insisted adamantly, ever true to his moral principles despite how blurry the lines had become. "If it were me, I would've done the same thing! In fact… I'm kinda shocked that he didn't smash my head in with a mallet! I should have respected the fact that you've _always_ been his girl." It was painfully sobering to say, but in his scientist's heart, he knew that running from the truth was counterproductive.

Laura wanted to scoff at that. She knew he was only saying this because Stefan tried to beat into everyone's heads that her choices weren't hers the whole time. She'd told him a while ago that they weren't exclusive — he just chose not to hear it. "Why? Because he said so?" she challenged with a haughty quirk of her brow, pursing her lips dubiously.

"More like _snarled_ …" he corrected her matter-of-factly, recalling the many times the man had given him plenty of advance warning. He may have won her over for the time being but history showed just how realistic his chances were at having her for good. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Stefan's magnetism would find her again and suck her dry. If nothing else, her loyalty to Stefan for the last three years said it all. "And well, because you love _him_ … right?" he asked reluctantly, grimacing as if awaiting another gut-punch. He didn't even wanna think about it — especially when he realized he was making the exact same mistake by ignoring his intuition again — but he had a point to make here.

 _Sigh_. Okay, it was going to harder than she thought it would be to convince him. Ironically, Stefan's stubbornness mirrored Steve's tenacity and she was reminded at every turn why it had been so difficult to choose between them — they were the same in just as many ways as they were different. But then she realized that she had failed to mention one little thing that was sure to turn him into a believer. "Steve… we broke up," she revealed succinctly, taking a step closer to him and lacing her fingers through his as if to confirm her resolve.

…His brows just shot up in surprise as he momentarily thought back on the moment she kicked Stefan out of the house. He hadn't been able to tell if the exile was a figment of his imagination with the way his head had been spinning at the time. But it didn't hurt to verify. "Wait, you're saying that you… _officially_ called it quits?" he squeaked hopefully. And when the sweet reality of it hit him, he became steadily motivated, the cadence of his nasal falsetto rambling with excitement, "Dropped the bomb?! Kicked the can?! Killed the weasel?!"

"…In so many words, yes." And that was a lot of words, but they were accurate enough. Laura just snickered softly, tickled by his overzealous reaction, nodded to confirm his suspicions, and reiterated, "It's over between us."

… _Cowabunga._ Steve just froze and stared at her with perked brows, beams of renewed hope shining through his wide eyes. This day was certainly a long time coming. Honestly, sometimes he feared that he had created Stefan to be… _too_ perfect. He was beginning to suspect Laura would never be able to break away from his mastery of seduction. He could only hope that this wasn't a lapse of judgment that she would later renege on. But no worries. He came prepared this time.

"Hold that thought, please…" he requested politely after a beat of pensive silence and quickly unraveled his hands from hers to reach into the lapels of his robe to fish around in one of the inside pockets. After unearthing many arbitrary items and placing them on the kitchen table — a paddle-ball, a slice of swiss cheese, and a horseshoe to name a few — he finally sifted out a small cassette recorder.

… _The hell?_ Bewildered by the way he abruptly peeled away from her to empty his pockets, she just quirked a brow at him, slightly disappointed by the sudden lack of warmth from his hands. And the knit in her brow deepened the longer she watched him unload item after item as if his robe were a portal to another dimension. How the heck did he and Myra know how to fit so many things in such a small space? She was surprised he hadn't pulled the kitchen sink out of there. But when he finally found what he was looking for, she was no closer to an explanation for why he needed it and she just shot him a dumbfounded stare. "What's _that_ for?"

"Documentation. Just a tiny precaution. Don't worry, it's strictly confidential," he disclosed candidly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to walk around with recording devices. But he'd learned from his recent court case with Myra that it came in handy… might as well make doubly sure that there was no chance of further confusion. How ironic it was that he had no idea Myra was about ten steps ahead of him in the surveillance game anyway. "Now! Repeat that for the record… and try to _enunciate_ ," he insisted as he leaned toward her with the recorder like an eager journalist drooling for a scoop.

And Laura's blank stare persisted. She didn't know whether to fall on the ground laughing or bop him over the head. All she could do was give a rueful shake of her head as she watched him, oddly fascinated by his quirky gimmicks. One thing was for certain: there was never a dull moment in his presence and she couldn't stop herself from cracking a smile if her life depended on it, even though she knew he was dead serious. "…You don't believe me, do you?"

"Ohhh, of course I do! I'm so excited, I could tinkle in my knickers!" Steve insisted brightly, genuinely gleeful that his chances with her had been better than he realized. Then again, believing her hadn't exactly been the most reliable way to stay tethered to reality. "It's just, uh… no offense, honey mustard, but I also believed that the last time. And the time before that, too," he explained delicately, hoping that being transparent would help them prevent another flubbed attempt at romance in the future. "One minute I'm smelling the roses and then the next minute — BOOM! I'm curled in a dark corner sucking my thumb, hugging compost!"

… _Yup, sounds about right_. It was in that moment that her mother's voice rang in the back of her mind to remind her of the many times she had the power to the stop this madness before it ever began. Despite her deflections, she knew that she'd been ignoring how her actions were affecting him. She was actually amazed he was this receptive. But she couldn't remember the last time he flat-out admitted that he was suspicious of her intent and the thought of him distrusting her was just disturbing. It was enough to ignite the determination to prove him wrong.

"See, that's whole my point, Steve. I never meant to make you feel that way," she said pensively, growing solemn as it became clear just how empty her words must've sounded to him. And it was a shame because it was first time she actually believed them herself. "But I did. So I understand if you can't trust me. I guess I was just afraid that if I acted on how I felt, too many things would change. I see now that things were _supposed_ to change. And believe it or not, the person I am today is very excited to finally have you all to myself," she yielded as she stepped to him to close the gap between them yet again, gingerly plucking the cassette recorder from his hands and dismissively setting it aside on the table.

And then, as if fearlessly signaling her willingness to surrender to her feelings, her palms pressed against his chest and slowly slinked their way up his shoulders until they looped around his neck. Doing so instantly destroyed Steve's ability to think as his mind scrambled to mush, left with only his impulses to guide his arms around her waist gently in return. "I really, _really_ like you, Steve," she reassured him, the sultry dip in her voice barely above a whisper, peering at him with a suggestive twinkle in her eye, "And this Saturday… I'm gonna prove it to you."

 _Oh, blessed stars_... There she went again, throwing a wrench in his futile attempt to be objective. It would've been right around now that she usually rallied for resistance and found a way to slither right through his fingers with a litany of excuses. A tiny part of him was still waiting for the punchline. But the other part of him was eager for his ticket to the Promised Land, which eventually came in the form of her hankering embrace… and he was instantly infected with a vicious love fever the second she was in his arms again.

The resolve in her eyes and the sincerity of her words blasted him off for another trip to the heavens. He hoped that government authorities never got wind of how intoxicating she was; she probably would have been arrested for being a walking gateway drug. "Uhh-uhhh… w-well…" he stammered breathlessly, struggling to untie his tongue long enough to form actual words. "…Perhaps another _preview…_ is all it'll take to make that case, angel lips," he suggested with an impish wiggle of his brows.

"I know," she replied with a coy smirk but as much as she wanted to kiss him at that moment, she just leaned a little closer to whisper suggestively in his ear instead, "But I'd rather save the good stuff for the _encore_ …" And her smile widened to a grin of satisfaction when she felt him shudder against her, hoping she was doing enough to convince him that their uphill journey would be worth the wait.

It still felt a little strange to connect with him so intimately but it was the first time she actually relished in the relief of doing so. It was like taking a deep breath after drowning in an ocean of skepticism all year. Being in his arms felt like the remedy to all of her woes but she couldn't stay there all night the way she wanted. Gently unraveling herself from his embrace, she landed a parting kiss on his cheek before reluctantly backing away from him until he was no longer within arm's reach, slowly retreating to the staircase. "Well… good night."

… _Got that right._ More like a fabulous, amazing, life-changing night. Steve's bones ached with yearning and his head might as well have floated right off his shoulders as the world around him phased out of his awareness. Laura Winslow was hugging him and whispering sweet nothings to him… and he didn't need the reassurance of her sincerity as much as he needed convincing that he hadn't died standing up.

Swooning like a drunkard, he couldn't help but reach out to her as if impoverished of his life force as she slinked out of his arms. The chill of deprivation that riddled him made him want to rush to bed himself if only to make the next morning come quickly so that he could see her again. "Nighty-night, sweetums. I promise I'll dream about you," he crooned adoringly as he watched her depart. He should get his butt kicked in the name of love more often — it was a tiny price to pay for her affection. But the best part was, he was finally starting to feel as though he would never have to put up a fight for her love again. And after fifteen years of practice, that was nothing short of a miracle in his book.

Meanwhile, back at the Monkhouse Manor, Myra was in her bedroom quivering with ire, gaping at the surveillance footage from her vanity desk in absolute horror. She couldn't believe it. She was not only losing a grip on the tiny slither of sanity she had left… but from the looks of it, she had lost yet another battle against her nemesis, who was unknowingly besting the evil genius in her at every turn. Witnessing the scene through Steve's perspective was even more unsettling… her snugglebuns was still breaking their imaginary holy covenant without a second thought for his _gorgeous_ wife-to-be. It was as if someone had yanked out her heart, ground it to dust, and politely handed it back to her as a gift-wrapped curse.

" _That's sweet but if you ask me… I'd say you've been dreaming long enough,"_ Laura's voice floated from the monitor and listening to the sultry tones of her voice was as bad as listening to a cat choke up a hairball.

It just didn't make sense! This is not how this was supposed to happen! Instead of succumbing to her jealousy and telling Steve to get lost, Laura was reeling him into her black widow's web with little to no effort. To think that he still wanted this little tramp after she got him beat up was maddening. Not that it was possible to become even more crazed than she was. Her right eye had been twitching for the last five minutes.

"Ohh… ohhh… OHHHH!" she gasped with unadulterated dread, trembling as she scrambled to grab the remote to quickly turn off the monitor just as Laura shot the camera flirtatious wink… she couldn't stand to watch this train wreck any further. It sent her over the edge and she began to unravel into a good ol' fashioned manic tantrum as she stared at the black screen with wide-eyed grief. "My ears! My eyes! MY INNOCENCE!" she squealed with tearless sobs of torment as her hands smashed against her cheeks until she looked like the figure from 'The Scream' painting, completely undone by such a soul-snatching regression in her plans to make Steve Urkel hers for all eternity.

Undone, but not defeated. Because she was Myra Monkhouse. There was no such thing as failure in her world. Just tiny little setbacks. It just meant she would have to recalibrate her plans accordingly. As quickly as she erupted into flying sparks of disgust, she descended back onto her maleficent throne with the grace of a debutante. Breaking into a wicked grin, she calmly stood from the stool and crossed her room to grab one of the large portraits of Steve hanging on her wall and casually pulled it until it opened on hidden hinges attached to the wall. Behind it hung another smaller portrait of Laura… or rather, it _used_ to be. Now it resembled Myra's personal canvas of resentment with graffiti scattered all over her nemesis face, defiled with push-pins, darts, ink mustaches, painted devil-horns, and words like 'PUBLIC ENEMY #1' sprawled across it in pink permanent marker.

Her jaw stiffened as she pensively stared her enemy in the eyes and wondered: what did this floozy have that _she_ didn't have?! She knew it couldn't have been because of intelligence — anybody who would reject a sexy buttercup like Steve Urkel for so long couldn't have been _that_ smart. And as far as she was concerned, it _definitely_ wasn't good looks. As delusion would have it, she wouldn't even consider that it was her overbearing, obsessive nature that pushed him away in the first place.

So what was it? Why was the man she loved so desperately smitten by this trash bag? As she scrutinized the photo, her eyes darkening with mischief, she knew exactly what she had to do next. "Okay, _missy!"_ she hissed at the picture as her eye continued to twitch madly, seething with the breathless passion of a lover scorned, "You wanna play dirty?! Just you wait! Redemption is rolling on the horizon like the ten plagues, you man-thieving twit!"

"…Oh, but first!" she chirped sweetly before calmly grabbing a hammer that just happened to be on her dresser and turning back to Laura's desecrated portrait. She shot it an eerie smirk before swinging the tool at the frame with all of her might until was beaten right off the wall, shattering into mulch when it fell at her feet. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and smiled radiantly as relief washed over her. "Ahhh. Much better!" And with that, she lifted a closed fist of determination into the air, flicking her chin to the ceiling and declaring with Scarlet O'Hara fervor, "As God is my witness, I will never go hungry for my Stevie's love again!" She could hear the trumpets of victory now. She shall be avenged.

* * *

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_

 _ **A/N: So you know how real life gets in the way of your creativity? Clear cut case right here. It's been a long time so forgive me for the lack of updates. When I get a chance to get back into the story I will and I am considering ending this story here and creating a sequel instead as I already have many more chapters brainstormed. When the motivation strikes, I will return will new chapters! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following my work.**_


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